


Broken Pieces

by oh_captain



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Stiles, Bottom Derek, Bromance, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Stiles, Eventual Happy Ending, Evil Twins, F/F, F/M, Foiled Plans of World Domination, Future Fic, Happy Derek, Kissing, Leaving Home, Loss of Trust, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Manipulation, Mates, McCall Pack, Mentions of Void Stiles, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Original Character Death(s), Pack Dad Derek, Pack Politics, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Pregnant Lydia, Protective Derek, Revenge, Scarred Stiles, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Leaves the Pack, Torture, Wedding Fluff, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Work In Progress, stiles moving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 46,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_captain/pseuds/oh_captain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can't stay in Beacon Hills any longer. He has limits to what he can take.</p><p>(sometimes pieces can be mended)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Stiles breaking point is when the twins figure out they can still morph into an all powerful alpha. And bite Danny.

Stiles looked to Scott, because despite everything, the guy was still Alpha. Scott was busy, gathering the discarded human up and cradling him in his arms. Stiles watched as Scott's hands fumbled over the wounds, trying his best at suppressing the bleeding.

It was like a role reversal of what happened last month, only not at all. Stiles froze anyway, remembering his hands covered in blood as he tried to hold two halves of torn open stomach together, fumbling with worry and fear and panic. As he remembered telling the girl that he was sorry, that it would be okay.

He was drawn out of it by Danny hissing and clinging to Scott's arm, letting the wound fall in Stiles line of sight. The bite itself wasn't too bad, the injury not nearly as bad as some things they had dealt with, but it might be a little bad on a human. He could imagine the pain, and the growing numbness and the cold Danny must be feeling at all the blood leaving him. 

Stiles waited for Scott to move, but he didn't, he looked scared and panicked. He was fixated on Danny, not the angry mega alpha. 

Of course Scott would want to help the hurt human, Stiles couldn't help but think as he turned his head quickly to watch Allison move to attack. He couldn't move yet, couldn't speak up to give orders, to warn her to not. He was locked in fear, wondering if this was it, this was how he would die, how his dad would die, and all of his friends. He couldn't do this every tuesday like it wasn't a big deal. It was.

Each and every battle was a big deal. They all were a struggle, were a feat to get through and trying to accept this as a common thing in Beacon Hills made Stiles blood feel like ice.

So he just stayed on the sidelines, watching Allison brandish her knives with the grace of a skilled hunter, watched her charge like she knew what she was doing against these two that had watched fight time and again.

It was no surprise the mega alpha slapped her down with enough force to throw her a couple feet away. Her chinese daggers skidded across the floor, clanging and he watched in horror as she tumbled away, rolling and twisting until the wall stopped her. Her sudden solid impact made a resounding crack that made Stiles eyes widen. 

He hoped she was still breathing, and then promptly felt doomed for even having to think something like that. He couldn't do this.

No one was really ready to fight. There had been no hum of anticipation between them, no warning, no reason to have geared up. No one had seriously thought to, because it was pack night. It was the night they set aside just for relaxation. This wasn’t supposed to be a time for fighting, it was the exact opposite. A way for them to bond and get closer and fix the broken bridges between them. Or, at least, that's what Scott said after the incident. After finally acknowledging their gap. It was a way to draw them together like a real pack and show them there was still good things.

Which makes sense why they would be fighting for their lives, honestly.

Stiles looked away from Allison's still form as he noticed someone else was going to try something. It was pointless he wanted to tell them.

Them happened to be Lydia. And predictably, she started to try to reason with them.

“Aiden! Ethan!” She yelled, managing to get close and stand in front of them, hands raised to ahow no weapon. Not that it mattered.

He jolted bodily from his place near the far wall as he watched her attempt be backhanded into the same wall Allison laid against. Lydia barely missed the door frame and possibly dislocating her shoulder, from what he could tell. 

There was no pause in the next attack, it was immediate and angry and had Stiles nearly get whiplash from jerking to see who it was. The snarl was what really gave away who it was though.

Isaac launched himself at them. Probably defending Lydia, the two had been closer lately and Isaac had a protective streak a mile wife.

The Mega Alpha clawed down Isaac’s unguarded torso, ripping open his chest cavity and physically making Isaac fall back. Once dropped on the floor, struggling to breathe, and horribly mutilated, the Mega Alpha kicked him out of the way as if he was trash. He landed in a heap near the TV, which was still on and playing The Fifth Elements ending scene.

The conjoined Alpha twins advanced towards Peter, who was shifting to Beta form and obviously the biggest threat to them. They looked as menacing as they had the first time Stiles had seen them, and he knew that all their hate and anger had to be stored somewhere. You don't suddenly become good and you don't suddenly attack out of nowhere.

Beta blue eyes flashed at Alpha red, and a snarl tore from the Bionic duo that made Peter wince for a second, before he squared his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. Steeling his nerves, preparing to do something important, Stiles hoped.

Peter roared, and the Alpha roared back, charging at him with a sudden intensity it didn't have a second ago. It must have meant something for Peter to have done it, preparing his body for an attack just as quickly as he could.

Claws flew, and the two werewolves became a blur of action that Stiles brain couldn't quite process. He _could_ understand the sick sound of squelching liquid, though, and snapping bones.

The howls of pain soon followed, before Peter dropped as well, body almost completely shredded. The deep claw marks littered his shoulders and stomach, some even in his legs. Yellow muscle and fat poked out from the wounds and some even showed off the bone hidden underneath. He didn't get up, but the shallow rise and fall gave hope he was still alive.

Stiles huffed a breathe of relief, before seeing there was no one else to stop these two. It was just him, just like last time, just like always, it seemed. He dug in his pocket for a moment, before his fingertips found the warm metal. His hand closed around the five inch switch blade.

It was a mountain ash and wolfsbane infused knife that he'd had made specially by one of Chris Argent's old contact, a weapons specialist that was all too happy for the custom order.

It wasn't much, but he could at least slow these guys down. He was in no way more skilled than Peter, but the older's muscled frame made his fighting style more head on, while Stiles could weave through with his lithe frame and admittedly fast reflexes. He'd had a lot of practice after all, not that that was even a good thing.

"Here, doggy, doggy, doggy," Stiles leered from behind the Super Alpha, raising up from his cowering on the wall.

The Alpha pair turned to him quickly, wasting no time to advance on him either, roar tumbling out of their conjoined mouth at an alarmingly loud level. It made his eyes tear up, and his shoulders to flinch in before common sense kicked in.

Stiles tensed as they swung at him, dunking under the attempt to take off his head clumsily. He straightened up behind them, flicking the blade open as he scrambled on what to do.

Seeing nothing but their shirtless back, he took that moment to slam the knife into their right shoulder, pushing past the resistance he met to watch it sink in a good four inches. He held tightly to the knife as they jerked and tried to shake the blade out with little success. Or maybe more success than he anticipated.

Stiles used the knife to swing himself more out of the way, feet off the floor to twist the blade in more painfully. Sadly, there was a little too much swing on his part, a little too much movement from the beast he was fighting, and he landed right in front of the Alpha Duo, blade slipping out wetly from their back, meeting little resistance with how sharp it was.

And Stiles was just in time, it seemed.

One of their widely thrashing limbs slashed down his face, claws sinking into Stiles cheek like butter. There was so much blood, and pain, all of the sudden. He could feel himself screaming as he stumbled back in some sort of retreat, slashing their forearm in an act of defense. He wondered if they screamed too, he wasn't sure if he could hear anything at the moment, the roaring of his blood and heartbeat in his ears being so loud.

Stiles turned away, nearly dropping the knife in favor of shielding the now burning skin. Instead, he angled it away from him as the hot liquid seeped out between his fingers, and dripped wetly on his shirt and the floor. He barely choked the next scream as he pressed on the gashes to make it stop leaking. To make it stop burning.

It was a bad idea to turn away, as the claws of their other hand now had the chance to rip into his back, tearing tissue and fat and another scream from Stiles. It was agony, it burned and he wanted it to stop, but the only way was to kill them. He wasn't stupid enough to think he could. He was going to die.

Looking at Allison's prone form, tears filled his eyes and he managed a pathetic "fuck" that sounded more like a sob than a whimper. He wouldn't go down without a fight, not after the rest already did.

So, he let go of his face to dive under one of those raised arms, managing to throw his elbow into the nearly healed stab wound, which was covered in black blood that smeared all over Stiles arm and their back.

He was pushed back by them, the force of which had him stumbling a couple steps before he got solid footing. He twirled the knife to get a more stab worthy grip on it, the blade pointing opposite his thumb.

Stiles let out a battle cry as the Terrible Two came at him like a bull. He raised the knife and slammed it down into their unguarded chest, Stiles feet sliding them to a halt as he pushed all of his weight into his toes. It gave him a split second chance to throw his body weight into the blade, making it sink in until only the hilt showed.

Black blood oozed from one of their arms that had been coming up, and he watched black blood bud up around the blade. They weren't moving, letting the knife sink deeper and downward as Stiles drooped with the pain he was in.

They stopped moving and Stiles bit back a grin. The blade's path went from right under their left collar bone going down sideways to the protruding blade in their left breast. It was weeping black, to show that the poison had acted, that the mountain ash made it unable to close and the wolfsbane unable to heal. 

Like it started, suddenly it was over. They unattached and dropped, the wolfsbane too close to their conjoined hearts. Neither one would be getting up.

Stiles whimpered, as everything settled around him. He stumbled a couple steps towards where the girls were before falling to the floor. The adrenaline was gone, he felt empty. He didn't want to die, didn't want to watch his friends die.

Swallowing, Stiles tried not to scream as he pulled himself to Allison. His back was pure agony, only feeling worse with everytime he had to lift his arms and drag himself towards her. Priorities, after all.

Allison was human and had been slapped down pretty hard. He couldn't tell if she was breathing, in all honesty, and he had to check. Had to be sure.

"Are you okay?" He croaked as he rolled her over.

She didn't move for a second, blood from her a new gash onher forhead partly crusted over one of her eyes. So he shook her a bit, making her blink up at him a couple times, before gasping and coughing.

He repeated his question, to see if she could speak, but was let down at her just nodding. She moved her head too rapidly though, wincing and squinting at what he was sure an awful head injury. The swelling around the gash was pretty ugly and he doubted she'd be happy about it.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Stiles almost cried out lifting his hand to hold up 2 fingers. He settled for hissing a breath and watching his hand shake wildly in front of her.

"4?" She frowned, voice rough. "Ah, three. My vision is blurry, hold on." She rubbed her eyes, then her temples, the fingers of her left hand wetting themselves in the more fresh blood. "And my head hurts." 

"Concussion," he decided. "Probably, either way you need medical attention."

He looked to Scott, who was silently crying over Danny, hands crusty with blood as he pushed part of Danny ripped shirt over the wound like a bandage.

"Call an ambulance. Get Danny, Isaac and Peter out, but call an ambulance." He wasn't sure if Scott understood or not, and was preparing to yell it louder, when he was interrupted.

"No," Allison struggled to sit up, using the wall and floor to balance her even as she teetered. "Just get us to Deaton's."

Stiles made a frustrated noise, face turning into a scowl only to stop midway because of the flare of pain that rippled on his cheek. He'd just have to let this go for now, but Scott was an idiot if he thought Stiles was okay with just taking them to Deaton's all the time.

-

Deaton, of course, patched them all up. He didn't ask what happened, thankfully, oddly quiet beyond asking for supplies. Probably sore over not being invited to pack night. Stiles was to blame about that, because he felt Deaton wasn't close enough, that he had made his case as a neutral being very clear.

Deaton made Allison, Peter and Stiles stay over night, telling Scott he’d have to explain to Danny what happened and guide him over what to do like an Alpha should. Scott just nodded srupidly, staring at Danny's sleeping form in the car blankly. Blaming himself, Stiles would guess, because it was Scott's idea to have him over.

Scott had thought if they included Danny in pack nights, they wouldn’t talk about werewolves. That he'd bring something they all wanted. They’d be normal high schoolers for a couple hours.

But that was just torn away. In the trash, down the sink, whatever other way of saying it there was.

Stiles shook his head as he curled up in the back, on a makeshift cot. He had to get himself and his dad out before it was too late. 


	2. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stitches were being removed. They itched like crazy all the time.

During the couple weeks that followed, Stiles pressured his dad into transferring and packing as much things as he could. It had hurt to move for awhile, so it was slow going at first, but with his Dad's help they managed. 

He also started texting Derek less and less. Derek, who was in Africa, had kept contact with Stiles and Stilinski honestly loved talking to Derek. But it was too much of a risk to keep doing so, with maybe Scott or someone getting it out of him where Stiles went. And yeah, he always laughed at the jokes and articles Derek found, and yeah, he felt like he was really getting to finally know the guy, but self preservation came first.

Tom Stilinski was happy to be leaving, believe it or not. So much death had been surrounding him, so much pain. He hated his son keeping all these secrets and not listening and doing whatever even though he was still only a child.

Tom was glad Stiles was finally getting out, and so he found no trouble at all in transferring a couple counties over for a fresh, danger free start.

Stiles helped Tom send most of their stuff to the new town with rentals, put into storage units until they could get there, leaving only a couple scattered boxes in their old house. Things that could be packed up quickly into the back of the jeep, mostly clothes and some dishes honestly.

Radio silence from Lydia, Isaac, Peter, and Scott, though that was usual. Allison had messaged him back saying her head injury made looking at her phone hard, but she'd text him the moment she was better, so there was that.

Scott and Stiles hadn't been friends in awhile, but Scott had been trying to fix that lately. Stiles, not so much. Not after last month, not when her face still haunted his dreams, her words whispering in his ears when it was too quiet.

A lot of shit had gone down since taking down the Alpha pack in their first semester of junior year. Due to them hardly going to school, none of them got credit for any of their classes, and the next semester, since the nemeton called for power, they basically forfeited that entire school year. Fighting unimaginable creatures, focusing on training instead of bookwork, healing from injuries that left wicked scars, both physical and mental, all of it just fucked them over. Can't exactly go to class looking like a walking bruise.

Speaking of, the minor cuts and bruises had faded within the couple of weeks that had gone by, and Stiles’s stitches were getting taken out. Which Stiles was very thankful for, as cleaning and taking care of them had been a real bitch, at least for the ones on his back.

Asking for help wasn't one of his strong points, so he kind of just struggled through pouring a bottle of rubbing alcohol down his back, and hoping it did the job while he winced and whimpered. Both painful and messy.

Oh, and Jackson was back. That was maybe a small stone in a very large pond, if Stiles was honest.

While Deaton had been removing the last of the stitches, Jackson had strolled in, with Lydia and Scott hot on his heels.

Stiles had looked up as they came in, alerted by the bell chiming as the door opened. It was weird enough feeling Deaton move the scissors across his skin, cutting something that was tethering him togetherl, feeling him pause in the middle of it was equally as strange. It was a very subtle pause though, and he got back on task rather quickly, only sparing the new comers one more glance before practiced fingers got to work. As they came in (and seemed to halt in the doorway), Deaton took that moment to really start in again with the glue to hold the skin together.

"Hello, Mr. Whittemore," He greeted quietly, concentration focused on Stiles. "Lydia, Scott." 

Stiles frowned at the ground, feeling the new bandage on his face, which, somehow, was more uncomfortable than the stitches. You wouldn’t think you needed stitches on your face, but apparently you do if an Alpha Mega werewolf attacks you. Which had happened, he'd like to remind everyone.

And did Scott come by at any point to help or check on him and try to fix the bad blood they had been developing? No, of course not. Though, he was probably more worried about Danny, Allison and Isaac.

"Hey Scott, Lydia, Jackson," He grumbled, trying not to let how bothered by the audience he really was show. He was shirtless, and all of his flaws, his pale skin, and the even paler, sometimes almost purple scarred and charred skin covering him didn't help.

"Hey Stiles," Scott said, albeit weakly. He shifted uncomfortably, before adding on, "Getting the stitches removed finally?"

It was a weak attempt to smooth feathers and open a conversation. Very weak.

Stiles glared. They hadn’t spoken much for the past couple months, even before the incident. Communication had been a little stunted, so it wasn't a surprise to be met with such hesitance.

They were two different people now, trying to act like they were still friends. There wasn't a spark when they talked anymore, even if they did try to put it back in. Secretly, deep down, he wanted Scott to be his brother again, felt he always would be in a way, but he knew it was better they weren't. After all of this, their true character's had come out and they had grown up faster than they needed to.

Also, secretly, deep down, Stiles knew it was partly his fault and living with the fact he caused all this over wanting to find a body in the woods choked him anytime he had free time.

He didn't answer at first, but his grip on the plastic chair tightened a bit. He absently let his calloused thumb brush over the little white scars on his right hand, over his battle scars.

"Yeah," He finally ground out. "What gave it away?"

Deaton looked to them, cutting off any more awkward exchanges with an unamused gaze. “Can I help you?”

"Nah, we can wait," Scott said, trying to ease the growing tension in the room. He winced when he said it and shifted away from Jackson though, so Stiles knew something wasn't right.

"But Scott," Lydia hissed, alerting Stiles that she knew, but he couldn't. She gave Stiles a sympathetic look, but turned her sharp eyes to the task at hand on his back. Calculating how long it would take.

The newcomer, who had hardly said anything finally sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Truth is, we need you to perform a ritual to let our wolves know we’re pack, and it has to be blessed by you, so if you could hurry up. I only ask because it's a grating feeling, waiting to be accepted like this after asking and submitting already." Jackson intoned. He barely even glanced at Stiles during his speech, and if he did it was to track Deaton's hand for a threat. 

Stiles wondered what happened in London.

Deaton opened his mouth, surely to respond, but Stiles didn't want to be a part of this anymore.

"I don’t have all day," he snapped. "So if you could get a move on it. Thought you were almost finished?"

Deaton frowned, but placed a soothing hand on Stiles back, letting the boy know he understood. That he was trying to get Stiles out before anything happened.

Stiles wasn't wrong in saying Deaton was a neutral man, that he was a councelor to any who would come to him, and there were no sides. Sure, he favorited Scott, but he also knew that it was best not to bow to the boys whim all the time. It would make him look bad otherwise.

Deaton had understood how much pressure rode on Stiles shoulders recently, because Stiles had told him when the Sheriff had to talk to him about the new sheriff, one Jordan Parrish. Getting told of the Stilinski's departure had at first made him skeptical, but he also knew the boys weren't what they used to be. The test of time was not kind to them, and maybe Stiles finding his own path was better.

Sheriff explained how he wouldn't be handling things from now on, but the new sheriff would, as he left. He said he was transferring somewhere where he was needed more.

"Of course," Deaton said before finally finishing the removal of the stitches, putting in glue to hold the last of the skin together. Stiles just knew it was going to leave huge raised puckered scars, but stayed silent. 

Jackson watched in mild disgust, face twisting. Really reassuring, Stiles thought to himseldlf, as he couldn't exactly see what was being done.

"All finished," Deaton murmured.

Stiles didn't need to be told twice. He stood up from the chair, putting his navy blue jacket on with little finesse, fingers fumbling with the zipper before nodding at Deaton.

"Thanks," Stiles gave him a small smile. He looked to the trio in front of him, smile not faltering. "Nice to have you back. Scott. Lydia, you better?" 

Lydia hugged Stiles tightly. “We’re fine, are you feeling better?” She asked into his chest. He probably smelled like antiseptic and rubbing alcohol, he felt bad for her nose.

"Fine, you’re just hurting my back some," He winced as her grip pinched in a bit.

She flinched away, giving him an apologetic look while shuffling back.

"Stilinski, you got hot," Jackson greeted, making his presence known again. Stiles guessed he was waiting to see if they were friendly enough for that yet, before he started to talk to him.

Stiles rolled his eyes, smiling sarcastically. “I got scars, and a huge side-serving of PTSD, but hey! Why can’t I look hot doing it?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you too,” he agreed, holding out a hand.

Stiles took it, shook it once and then let go.

Scott gave Stiles a hard stare. It was somewhere between sorrow, uncertainty, and consideration. The eye contact was awkward as they sized each other up for the moment. It came with being unsure of where they stood with each other. 

"Stiles," he nodded after a moment, waiting to see if his greeting was acknowledged with anger.

"Scott," Stiles clapped Scott’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. This was his goodbye, after all. He wouldn't let there be anything holding him back from leaving, he'll be saying goodbye and making peace.

Scott stopped tensing, even smiled a little. Maybe filling in part of the gap both of them realized they kind of wanted to mend. Just a tiny fill though, not enough to really make a difference.

"Bye," He said, nodding a bit as he turned to exit. "It was nice seeing you guys. Deaton, thanks."

"Goodbye, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton smiled as Stiles left.


	3. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come Back Soon!" was the exit sign in Beacon Hills, causing Stiles to shudder a breath at the thought.

Stiles sighed as the Sheriff packed in the last box. It had been two days since getting the stitches removed, so he couldn't really lift things yet, but he could tell the movers where to put things, in the truck and help his dad with meager things as long as he didn't bend over or move too much with his arms or stomach...

Shaking his head a bit, he cast his gaze around his lifelong neighborhood, seeing all the sad faces that had already wished them goodbye. They had two lasagna's in the car that his father would be getting none of, and some goodbye snacks for the road from those who would miss the Stilinski's. It was both heartbreaking and heart-warming. Part of Stiles wanted to stay, but all the rest wanted to get the hell out of dodge.

"Lets hope Miller County is better than Beacon Hills." Tom murmured to him, climbing into the passenger seat of the jeep. 

Stiles chuckled, getting in the drivers side and closing the door. He glanced to Tom before nodding to the steering wheel. They had to go now. He just had to turn the key in the ignition and he'd be free of this hellhole. "I hope so too."

Stiles started the jeep and peeled out of the drive way, slowly heading towards Miller County.

"Come Back Soon!" was the exit sign in Beacon Hills, causing Stiles to shudder a breath at the thought.

 

As they pulled up to the new house, which they had looked at last week, they noticed how some of the windows were shattered and there was other things in shambles. There was spray painted graffiti and scorch marks on the sides. All in all, it was wrecked.

A teenager stood there, looking glum and miserable with Andrea, the realtor.

She looked so upset at seeing Stiles.

Her hair was down and she was twisting it nervously at the tips, the dark brown locks gleaming in the afternoon sun. Her pantsuit looked cleaned pressed, though the nervous sweating wasn't doing her any good. If the house was in bad condition, Stiles thought Andrea looked a little worse.

He got out of the jeep, telling his dad to hold on, before walking to the pair. Andrea nervously wiped her palms on her grey slacks, and bounced her weight on the tips of her shiny black heels.

He raised a brow at the house then to her. As if a silent signal for her to tell him what happened without him glitching her up with his words. He was tired, his dad was tired, Stiles just wanted to know what was going on and how it would be fixed. As a 17 year old, he felt more like he was 80. He could only imagine how it felt for his dad.

"Mr. Stilinski, I am so sorry. It was our local juveniles, they got drunk last night and tore the place up. I went to make reservations for you to stay in the local hotel, but they were booked and, I am so sorry." Her squeaky voice babbled, her eyes narrowing at the young boy next to her at the word 'juveniles'.

The teen just rolled his eyes, which were a surprising shade of blue and green, that slightly reminded Stiles of a certain Hale. The thought just made Stiles stomach twist. Even Derek was smart enough to get out of that pit, and it kind of made him sad he'd never talk to the other. They'd been starting a friendship before the other had dipped. It didn't matter.

Stiles sighed before nodding at her, pushing thoughts of Derek and Beacon Hills away. "Okay, well, can you call me when all of this is cleared up?" he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes!" she nodded frantically. "Lucas here is going to be helping with the repairs to the damages him and his friends made."

"I've gotta go... Find us a place to stay," he grumbled, waving a hand to her as he walked away.

"You can stay with my family, we have plenty of spare rooms," the words sounded threatening, coming from Lucas and his eyes were looking at him all suspiciously. It didn't help when the eyes flashed yellow at him briefly.

Stiles felt his fingers curl into a fist. Of course there were werewolves in Miller County. Of course it was his luck to not even be here an hour and to already get threatened by a wolf. Of course. Great.

"She'd be willing to let you stay. With her. And her family. Until your house is--" Andrea nodded and waved a hand listlessly towards the house. Her manicured fingers glinted in the sun, showing the red hues to a blinding degree. She seemed excited by the idea.

Stiles pressed his lips together before sighing and nodding. Best to get this out of the way.

"Fine, yeah, thank you," he said. There was no point in trying to hide from the fact that this was wolf territory and he was going to get cornered smelling like he did. Of other wolves, of different territory. Might as well get it out of the way, and face the music. This was his new home and he wasn't gonna get bullied away from it.

Andrea smiled a little more brightly, causing a little of the tension in his shoulders to lighten and he watched Lucas flee to his car, calling to Stiles to follow him and scrambling in.

Probably in a rush to show his pack the prize he was bringing. Blood thirsty, Stiles would guess, before pausing to remember the innocent yellow and not the cold unfeeling blue.

He got in and explained the situation to his dad while following the guy's Prius. His father just shook his head and sighed, muttering about kids these days and the luck they had with the supernatural.

* * *

They pulled up to a grand house, beautiful and lived in with a wrap around porch and kids toys scattered around the yard, hand prints in paint by the garden and wow. That was a well-tended garden, that was maybe just a bit over grown, filled with herbs that Deaton had books on and he'd seen pictures of on the internet.

The pale blue on the house seemed so much more inviting than the burnt husk of the Hale house Scott would call meetings to sometimes. Where white paint was not a burnt brown and charred black, peeling off ashen wood.

A woman came through the doors, a man slightly behind her. The Alpha and her second.

Something seemed off about Lucas leading him to the base. Too much trust. Lucas was probably raised in peace, with no thought of danger from strangers. The threat was probably because he had no knowledge of what to normally do in these situations. That was surprising.

Stiles swallowed, before getting out and moving towards the woman.

He only made it five steps before her eyes flashed red at him and he froze where he was, waiting for the Alpha to approach him. He knew that much would be a smart move.

"I am Maria, Alpha to the Ramirez pack." She said, tilting her angled chin at him, eyes fading back to dark brown.

"Stiles. I, uh, I recently left my pack. The McCall Pack." Stiles murmured, frowning. Was this the proper way to do things? He wasn't sure, all the other packs had just been violent.

She nodded placidly, delicate hands coming up to push some strands of black hair from her face. "So, my nephew and his friends trashed your house," she stated, giving Lucas a pointed look. "And I want to make it up to you. You can stay here until he's done fixing everything him and his idiots tore up." She said it kindly enough to let him know she was joking and felt light hearted about this whole debacle. Something eased in his stomach.

Stiles smiled a little at her, stretching his hurt cheek and making him tone it down a bit. "Yeah? Thank you, Alpha Ramirez," he said softly. Maybe he was a little too trusting too.

"Let me introduce you and your father to the rest of the pack," she smiled, making him think of his own mother for a second. Her hand falling to his shoulder and pulling him closer to her side, broke the illusion, and he was soon being steered towards the front door.

Stiles turned slightly in the crook of her arm to wave to his dad to follow. His father nodded, getting out. He seemed eased to see his and Maria's greeting had gone well, and Stiles was grateful his dad even cared after everything they'd gone through.

Tom caught up with them at the door, smiling and making a hasty introduction of himself. Maria had clasped his hand and replicated her greeting to Stiles.

The man who'd come out with her was gone, had probably gone inside after he'd seen they were good, but Stiles wondered how many peope were in the Ramirez Pack.

A girl greeted them at the door, standing in the front hall seemingly putting away her jacket. She was young and looked like she just got caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

If Stiles had a guess, she was eavesdropping, but he wasn't gonna call her on it. Her young face still had baby fat all over it, maybe seven or so, but still shy.

"Mr. Stilinski, this is my niece, Jenna." She waved a hand at the brunette girl.

"Jenna, nice to meet you," Tom held out a hand. Jenna took it, shaking the hand quickly and releasing it just as quickly. Her chubby fingers had nothing more than a fish grip and it made mirth light up in Tom's eyes.

Her own dark eyes looked like Maria's, while her hair was a dirty blonde that reminded him of Erica, and yet, also of Lucas's curly mop top.

"Jenna, these two will be staying with us." Maria informed the girl.

Jenna nodded, squeaking out an 'okay' before bolting down rhe hall. The top of her ears were red, and her pink dress fluttered behind her, her little feet managing to pound away. He winced, hoping she didn't stomp like that too much. He may start to regret agreeing to stay, otherwise.

Maria guided them to the living room, laughing a bit over the little girls antics. The tour ended up showing them where a few others were, and Stiles briefly wondered how many beta's were in this pack. 

"That's my other niece, Sara. Sara and Jenna are Lucas's sisters.Those two are Brion and Val, their parents. Brion is my younger brother, Val is my lovely sister in law, from the Cauldwell Pack." Maria pointed at each as she spoke. "My husband, Jax, just left for work now, so you'll meet him later. He was the imposing man just behind my shoulder when I came out." Maria smiled, the teasing tone at the end making her snicker like it was an inside joke.

Stiles smiled like he was a part of it anyway and Tom looked amused as well. Relaxed. There was an obvious change of pace in this household that neither had experienced recently (within the past five or so years, is what he constitutes as recently, even though that makes it no where near recently).

There was a couple taking the classic disappointed parents stance,  ~~scolding~~  talking to Lucas in hushed tones. Probably about the house, but he didn't have super hearing so there was no telling. Lucas just looked done, eyes flicking towards Stiles and his dad every other second.

The older, Sara, Stiles presumed, looked at Stiles face with wide eyes, the blue of them a contrast from everyone else's. Well, except for Lucas. The two almost had identical eyes, but she looked a lot like Jenna, older obviously, but there was a definite connection. She was lanky, suggesting a recent growth spurt, putting her at maybe 10 years old. 

"He looks like he stepped out of a slasher film." Sara said amiably about Stiles, pointing her finger. Her nose crinkled a little and Stiles sighed, head dropping a bit to the side in defeat and to obscure the healing scars. 

He raised his hand to his cheek, obscuring the mutilation while a warm heat spread across his face. He wondered if it looked as smooth as it felt when he did it, because, if so, he was rather obvious about it.

"Sara!" Val gasped, snapping away from her conversation with Lucas to give her middle child a bewildered look. She gave a sympathetic look to Stiles, before glaring at the young girl. Sara just shrugged.

"What?! He does!" She stated, waving a hand at him like she was Vanna White in training. "Like it's make up you'd see on a character!"

Stiles looked to his father who cracked a smile and patted his shoulder. The one not leaning into Maria's side as she pulled him a bit closer. He let his hand drop some, pressing his arm close to his chest before relaxing some. The blush stayed put though.

"I'm Stiles." Stiles held out his hand, giving a tired smile to the others. He didn't really expect anyone to shake his hand, but it was a nice gesture if he offered. Or so his dad said.

"Nice to meet you," Brion said, coming forward, all broad shoulders and towering height, and warm smiles, to shake Stiles hand, and then Tom's.

"I'm Tom, Stiles' father." Tom said, releasing the others hand, while smiling at Val in greeting, as well.

Brion had calloused, rough hands, Stiles noted, watching him curiously. Derek, Scott and Peter never had rough hands like that.

Normally werewolves have some roughness, but not as much. The werewolf healing softened them up, making callouses hard to come by with them.

So either he wasn't a wolf, or he worked with his hands a lot. Like a shit ton.

He had dark hair, like his older sister, but it was more brown than black. His skin was olive toned, like his sister's as well, showing their heritage and obvious familial resemblance.

"I heard Maria say I was her younger brother, but she's lying. She just wants to seem more dominant." Brion teased, obviously amused.

Maria grinned childishly, and Val laughed. Her hair was blonde, and skin fair. The dirty blonde was from her on all her kids. She had some obvious years on her, but they didn't make her any less pretty than when she was younger, he was sure. And man, had Brion scored back then.

"I'll show you your rooms," Val smiled. So she was also where they got the blue eyes, he realized as he looked at the striking color. He had no doubt she was used to attention though, with her vibrant clothing being the eye catcher that they were.

He withheld from making a comment from his dad, and he knew he'd have to swallow his tongue before saying anything in this wolves den. Not that they were enemies, Stiles just had a motor mouth.

Tom nodded, following the woman. He clapped Stiles shoulder, making Stiles wince at the pain his healing injuries now sang with. He didn't want to move, but they'd gotten a room ready for him and everything.

So, Stiles reluctantly detached from Maria, smiling gratefully at her before following his dad. It had been nice having someone there to fall back on. Something he hadn't had in awhile, Lord knows. 

Stiles was delighted that his room and his dads room were right next to each other. Otherwise, he'd have to sleep on like, his father's floor just to watch him and his dad always stepped on him in the middle of the night when that happened. Thank god it wouldn't be anything like that.

Besides, he wouldn't feel comfortable if they weren't together and probably would have had to respectfully decline Maria's offer. It sat well with him knowing at any point he could get his dad and they could leave.

Downside was, Stiles was put in the nursery. There were no kids, and Val had said she hoped it was alright, which made Stiles nod like crazy at the time. She just had that sort of effect that made him want to reassure her. She was too nice to say anything to, and besides, it was a functioning room, and his dad needed a bigger bed anyway.

Sure, it had the crib and the changing table, and ducks on the walls, but he wasn't too concerned because it also had a bed. With an en suite on the left, tiny as it was. 

It was alright. He was alive and out of danger and in a room with duck wall paper to protect him from everything else. Everything was going really good and he didn't feel like there was going to be backlash from a crazy tree stump here.

Stiles dropped his overnight bag on the changing table, before he went to go retrieve his pillow from the jeep. It gave the small illusion of home, in a foreign place. Saying he couldn't fall asleep without it was a sort of stretch, it just eased his fears sometimes.

As he got to the end of the hall, Maria stopped him. She blocked his way towards the staircase, slinging an arm around him and guiding him to her office.

He didn't protest as she closed the door for faux privacy, watching as she leaned against her desk. She was eyeing him from where he stood by the doors, so he shuffled forward, taking a seat in one of the two available.

"We've just got a small problem," she said, biting her lip and looking to him. 

Stiles rose a brow at her, preparing for the worst. He held his breath, unknowingly. 

"Well, two problems." Maria shrugged and he released his breath. He looked up, withholding an eye roll at her way of working a crowd. "The first is the damages in your house are a lot so you might want to consider, maybe, moving in with us. It's not really a problem, you should just put the house back on the market. Lucas will still fix it, free of charge." She said, hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder lightly, reassuring. 

Stiles frowned, nodding. "My dad is more the one--" 

"I'll talk more to your dad about it, don't worry! Just thought maybe you deserved a heads up, in case you two need to talk it over. It's just, the animal claws in the third bedroom? It pulled out some fiber glass, and exposed water damage. You'd have to replace the whole thing, so sorry." She spread her other hand, the one not clutching his shoulder, in a 'what can you do' type of way.

Stiles made a non-committal noise. That wasn't too bad, he'd have to talk to his dad about it after his dad talked to Maria. Not to mention him just jumping into this pack with no sort of struggle, to just ease in like he was meant to be there... was like running a burn under cool water. With everything he knew, he'd never settle and having these people around made him feel better. And somehow that unsettled him a little more. He felt off kilter and needed time to process.

"The second problem is, we're having a little omega issue. They're running from something." She paused, waiting for him to respond. Looking in his face for any sign of a reaction.

Stiles nodded, unsure of what reaction she was looking for. "Thank you, you know, for letting us stay," he decided to hold his tongue on the issue. He wasn't a werewolf whisperer, but he knew that there may be a bigger issue that he just doesn't want to get in to yet. 

Maybe later, after he settled, and could look at baseball bats without flinching.

Maria pulled away, but not too far, just so that she could look him head on, and give him a soft smile.

"I like you," she murmured, hand coming up from his shoulder to have each fingertip trace a slash on his cheek, delicately, almost in reverie. "I'd like for you and your father to stay."

He could feel his cheeks heat at the touch, and awkwardly smiled, feeling the injury pull a bit and slight discomfort to trail under her wake. He suppressed a shiver, the feather light touches rubbing at him wrong. He wanted to wipe his cheek, but knew better than to do something that stupid.

"You look like you've gone through war," Maria murmured, tracing the scars again and again, like she would be able to know how they happened. Each time caused the discomfort to start anew, but he held still.

He looked like death warmed over and he knew it. It was worse without his shirt, to show off the scars from where the training for battle had gotten too much, and where in the actual battle had almost killed him.

Their sophomore year and junior summer had been busy with gruesome acts that'd been harsh getting through. Tough to wake up every morning and see it mapping across his skin like it owned his life. Like it always would.

"Not really, it wasn't war. There was just a ton of problems and no one had the answers. Everything we did was wrong." Stiles managed to find his voice, a sick rolling feeling gathering at his next words. "A lot of lives were lost because of it."

She smiled tenderly and lightly ruffled his hair, finally taking her attention from his scarred face, though he almost felt like she really wasn't. Like she was still touching them, even when her hands weren't on him.

She drew further away and smiled at him again. Motherly, authorative.

"Keep your eyes out for omegas." she ordered sharply before leaving him to go unpack into his new room and talk to his dad.

And grab his stupid pillow, damn it!

* * *

Dinner rolled around and the smell of lasagna filled the house. The front door opened, and there was cheering from two small girls and the feet of others following.

Tom looked to Stiles, eyes apologetic.

"I got to head into work." Tom said to him. "They reheated the lasagna we were given so it wouldn't go to waste, don't let it. I'm sorry that I can't--"

"It's okay dad, I guess now's a good time to tell you that we need to talk some stuff over. Later." Stiles stated.

The sheriff gave him a nod. "Where we need to stay, you mean?"

"Maria offered us sanctuary here," Stiles sighed, rubbing the scars on his cheek at the ghost of her touch. He didn't press too hard, but it was still tender around the scar tissue. "But we'll talk it over, okay? Whatever you decide."

Tom sighed, before nodding his assent. "Okay, but I'll need to talk to Maria about this more as well. There's no way she could afford to be housing both of us. I'll pay rent or something." He crossed his arms.

Stiles nodded, hand dropping and anxiously rubbing his palms on his jeans. He watched his dad go down the staircase and out the front door from the top step. Dread filled his stomach, but he pushed it away and breathed in deeply.

"Dinner!" Maria called. Announcing that the stragglers better hurry up.

 

Stiles came in, collapsing in a chair. Tom had left for work, because he'd been transferred here for a reason, he reminded himself.

His dad was still the sheriff, this one had recently had a stroke and had to take a leave of absence. (Stiles had poked at his dad saying 'that coulda been you' which had made his dad roll his eyes. Stiles had just given his dad the 'I know you know I know' look.)

"Stiles, this is my husband, Jax and my niece Alex," Maria waved at the two new comers.

Jax was tall, with brownish hair and a slightly crooked nose. He looked friendly to an extent. There was obviously an edge to the guy. He didn't get the joke yet about how he wasn't intimadating, but he was sure once he got to know the guy, it'd shed some light on it.

And Alex was pretty, with black hair that fell in rings, and a button nose. She had a Star Trek T-shirt on and dark high-wasted jeans. Her hands were pushing around her peas and she refused to look at Stiles. Or anyone, for that matter.

Stiles nodded at both of them, before Val passed him his plate that was already made and he smiled his thanks to her. He set about grabbing rolls from where they were nearest, and trying to grab the butter knives as well.

"So what happened to your face?" Sara asked, making Stiles stop with his fork raised half way up to his mouth.

Stiles looked to her, eyebrows raised. The girl had no boundaries, obviously. He looked down as the food slid off his fork and back to his plate.

Val gasped and immediately went to reprimand her daughter. Jenna was giving him a twin look her sister had been, though as well as Lucas.

So, Stiles sighed, wanting to clear the air about it. Not deal with some bull shit heart to heart later about them. He didn't feel the need to recreate episodes of cheesy soap operas.

"Ever heard of the Alpha Pack?" He asked, starting to push his food into a scoopable pile.

Everyone froze, as if they knew what had happened. Conversation quieted a bit more than it already had, and several pairs of eyes landed on him.

"No," Maria shut him down, scowling at him and then Sara. "We don't have that sort of talk at the dinner table. Sara, you owe him an apology."

Sara grumbled the apology, but looked at Stiles in awe. As did Jenna. Lucas kind of frowned and snuck glances at Stiles cheek. Alex managed to spare him a look and kind of sucked in a breath. Like they all knew what the Alpha Pack did, who they were.

He guessed maybe he did seem a little like damaged goods. He wanted to say it didn't bother him, that it wasn't a reminder to him of how he looked to strangers everytime someone reacted to him. He'd be lying, but he wanted to say it.

"Sorry," Stiles said to Maria, giving her a apologetic look.

"So your pack is dead?" Alex asked, the first words she'd spoken. Blurted, from the way her face seemed to wince with her words, cheeks flushing.

"Alexis!" Maria scolded her.

"No," Stiles barked a laughed. "God, no."

That made more looks get cast in his direction. He shoved a big bite of lasagna in his mouth to stop any more questions. Maria gave him an approving look.

Dinner passed in muted conversations, because summer didn't really have any fun new topics to discuss. Everyone was trying not to dig into his past, he could tell, and it was killing them not to ask.

"Could you pass the salt?" Val asked him. He reached over, grabbed the shaker and gave it to her, wincing at how his back had been pulled awkwardly. He'd have to get his dad to help clean his back later, because the bandages were sitting awkwardly, and it was just uncomfortable.

She must have noticed, because her smile was worried and her thank you sounded like she wanted to ask. Now they were going to be checking in on him with that, he was sure. Later. They all seemed really worried about his well being, and, while refreshing, he was a big boy.

"So, what grade are you guys going into?" Stiles asked, to stop the quiet drone that seemed to press down on him.

"Lucas is going into 10th,  Jenna is going into 3rd, Sarah is going into 4th and Alex is going into 11th. What about yourself?" Jax said, smiling away the hard edge he had been broadcasting.

It was beginning to click, Stiles suppressed a smile.

"I'll be going into 11th as well," Stiles smiled, making Val and Jax blink in surprise. They promptly started to scrutinize him as he shoveled big bites of cooked noodle into his mouth.

"You look so much older," Brion murmured, sounding a bit amazed, and a bit sad.

"I'll be 17 in a month." Stiles stabbed another piece of noodle and shoved it in his mouth.

Maria nodded. "Maybe you and Alex will have classes together," she smiled.

Alex glared at her last three bites, before finishing what was on it and taking her plate to the kitchen. She then was disappearing upstairs, her door closing a tad bit loudly.

Stiles got the feeling she didn't like him very much. He had no idea why.

 

Four weeks later, Tom and Stiles were accepted into the pack, and made Miller County their new home. Like, actual home. It was fast happening, but Stiles was glad he belonged somewhere, honestly.

School had started, and him and Lucas had Lacrosse together, while him and Alex had PreCalc together. He didn't bother to make friends, just doing the school work and getting sneers from the boys and lusty looks from girls. 

It made Stiles uncomfortable, to be looked at like an object. It only got worse when the new attention had people going out of their way to talk to him, like a prize to be won.

Any attempt at friendship, Stiles turned down mostly. He wasn't much interested in social networking these crowds, and honestly, these people weren't worth getting to know.

He almost shuddered in disgust when the equivalent of Lydia Martin here ran her fingers down his scarred arm. Luckily those were just burn scars from when another Arson-in-training had tried to kill Scott some months ago. All healed now, but before...

Also, very luckily, he didn't outwardly shudder in disgust. Lord knows girl's who think they're above others don't take rejection well.

He had frowned at her, though, but she had rolled her eyes, and "spelled things out for him."

"You are the mysterious new kid, covered in scars, and I'm sure you have some tragic backstory. I am the popular girl who you are going to date because I deserve the best and right now, its you." She stated, steepling her manicured nails on his desk.

Stiles sighed and shook his head. He was sure he heard Lydia say something like that their sophomore year, and he tried not to let the feeling of fake wash all over him.

"Is that so?" he asked blandly, as he gathered his things and moved a couple desks away from her, not afraid to make a show of it. "I'm not interested," He smiled, knowing it made the scars on his face ripple, and sat down, digging out his new phone.

The only numbers in it were Val, Brion, Lucas, Alex, Jax, Maria and Dad, but he did have the puzzle game which he was not afraid to openly play and act like he was texting. 1010, his high score was 1978.

The girl walked over, snatching his phone up and pushing buttons, glaring Stiles into submission when he went to protest.

He gave in and let her, waiting patiently until she gave the phone back.

"Don't be a stranger," she stated and flipped her platinum blonde hair, walking away to sit in her desk.

 

School sucked, everyone stared at him no matter what he did, they'd stared at his scarred face and tried to subtley bring it up. Like he was a side show for them to poke and prod.

Sadly, he actually ended up texting "Christina" and found out, unlike Lydia, she had no real her under the surface. The surface her _was_ her. Shallow and petty. It made his mouth feel dry and his head hurt.

He hoped she wouldn't remain that way, because she was better at talking about other things (such as not bringing up his appearance and such. Like she knew it was taboo.)

But still, she had that Miller County vibe. Like most of the kids here. Something was just... off. They were too normal. Too caught up in stupid drama tantrums he felt too old to even listen to.

He sat with Alex at lunch, despite her glaring of how unwelcome he was. Her _very_ obvious unwelcoming of him. So obvious that one day her friends asked her about it, while Stiles ate the beans that came with the sandwich. 

Alex had given her friend a dirty look before glaring at where Stiles was acting like he wasn't listening. "Something about him irks me. The way he abandoned all of his friends."

Stiles had stiffened immediately, getting his tray and leaving.

 _She doesn't understand_ , he had told himself. _No one understands._


	4. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was laughable, he smiled, feeling his fingers twitch, as if he could pull himself out somehow. He had left Beacon Hills and his life to get away from danger because he didn't want to die or watch his friends die, yet here he was.
> 
> Being crushed to death.

Stiles stared the yellow eyed omega in front of him with a weariness he hadn't felt in a while. Everything here had been so peaceful, he had forgotten the danger.

He was desperately reminded of the lack of weapons in his immediate vicinity, watching the omega for movement as he patted his pockets. No shirt, of course, because he would have over heated on his run, but his shorts only contained his wallet and his keys.

Said omega growled at Stiles movement, taking a step forward and making Stiles still.

The next thing Stiles knows, he's running when the omega lunges at him.

The jeep was in sight, and Stiles was sure he could reach it when he was tackled down. Fifteen feet from salvation, the jeep was right there, but the weight of the man, the feral beast, on top of him was pinning him. He kicked and hit, twisting to be on his stomach, to claw away. The omega slipped off of him as Stiles foot caught his chin, and Stiles was stumbling up, tripping down, hands bracing the soil, up again and on his way. When he finally got close enough to have a glimmer of hope of get away, claws tore into his side. Pulled him back down into the crushed leaves, white hot pain from the scratches making him cry out. No matter how many times it happened, it always felt worse than he remembered.

Stiles screamed louder as he claws sank back in, twisting his insides, before the omega got off of him quickly. Stiles sobbed into the dead leaves and dirt, managing to lift his head to look for the omega.

There by the jeep, blood dripping from his fingertips, stood the dirty omega, wild blue eyes glaring at him, a sadistic smile on his face.

Quickly, Stiles tried to army crawl away from being in the jeeps shadow. The omega had let him come here, this was his plan, oh god he was going to die.

Protesting metal made him pause in his crawl to turn just slightly in time to watch the shadow grow and his jeep collapse on him.

He made a strangled noise, trapped under his own vehicle. Briefly, Stiles wondered if this was how the other guy felt when this exact jeep fell on him.

Everything hurt, and he knew he was screaming, and trying to call for help, but he had a good idea that none of that was gonna help. The pain was almost unbearable and he could feel broken bones shifting on the bottom of his spine.

It seemed hours later, he was cold and his hand had stopped shaking just because he didn't have the effort. He briefly wondered why he was still clinging to life, as if forcing himself to breathe, despite his body slowly shutting down from blood loss and god knows what kind of punctured organ damage.

It was laughable, he smiled, feeling his fingers twitch again, as if he could pull himself out somehow. He had left Beacon Hills and his life to get away from danger because he didn't want to die or watch his friends die, yet here he was.

Being crushed to death.

"Oh my God!" a familiar voice said and Stiles weakly turned his head to see Alex and Val. He wasn't sure who spoke, and he didn't think he was going to find out either. This was his end, he was too far gone, and they couldn't move him in risk of hurting him more. There was nothing they could do to help him.

He weakly sighed, wanting to sag in relief, but knowing if he did... He might not have enough effort to keep his eyes open. The spotty vision was enough to make him want to, but he had persisted this long.

"Stiles," Val whispered in horror. "What happened?"

Stiles opened his mouth, though a wet sound came out when he tried to talk.

"No! Don't speak!" Val sat down next to Stiles head, lightly running her fingers through his hair. "Alex, call your aunt!"

Alex stood there, just staring, not moving. Frozen in these moments of panic, and excruciating pain for Stiles.

"His heartbeats so slow," Alex whispered, sounding broken. Looking lost as she stared at Stiles clinging to life.

"Call. Your. Aunt." Val grounded out.

Alex stumbled for her phone, though Stiles shook his head. She called, but Stiles eyes closed and didn't open, heart missing a few beats before he forcefully pulled air into his lungs and tried to keep his eyes open, seeing a blob in front of him.

"Hold on!" Val sobbed, Alex next to her, phone on the ground.

"Maria!" Alex gasped as she dragged her gaze somewhere over Stiles, where he didn't bother looking. Had no energy or will to.

"Stiles." Maria's voice reached him, and he managed to smile. "You're dying. I'm not going to let you, let me see your wrist." she ordered.

Stiles twitched his fingers, as if that was offer enough. whether it was an offer or him to pull away, he was too gone to know, and she was going to see it how she wanted.

Maria took it as an invitation, warm fingers searing into his like fire. She lifted his arm and Stiles whined before she wolfed out and bit into his wrist.

"Ow," Stiles managed when the weight of the jeep was lifted off him. He was probably a mangled mess, but he didn't care. He was dying anyway.

"Dont move him, he has yet to accept or reject the bite. Alex, Lucas, go home and bring blankets." Maria ordered, setting Stiles wrist down gingerly.

 

* * *

 

Stiles sat up fast, groaning at the blood rush that came to his head. Blankets surrounded him, and so did his pack, Alex cuddled up the closest.

He looked down at himself and sighed in relief, sagging.

He collapsed back into the position he had been under, Alex seeking his warmth out and getting closer.

"I'm a werewolf." He breathed.

"Stiles, shut it, 'm tryna sleep," Alex grumbled.

"I survived the bite and that's the kind of congratulations I get?" Stiles frowned at her. "You need to work on that."

Alex sat up fast and knocked her flailing limb into Lucas, who groaned to see the commotion.

Least to say, in less than three minutes everyone was up and dog piling on Stiles. The weight of everyone was crushing but he didn't mind, managing to rasp a laugh at them, not exactly above hiding his gratefulness under layers of sarcasm. He couldn't... He couldn't say thank you, exactly.

After an hour, Maria parted and looked him in the eyes, flashing her red alpha eyes. "Do you agree to become part of the Ramirez pack?" she asked, seriously.

Stiles eyes flashed and he tilted his head back, exposing his neck in submission. "Yes, Alpha."

She shifted to Beta form and placed her fangs on his throat, accepting him officially and he breathed a sigh of relief when she moved away.

"So, that's what Alpha juju feels like?" he asked, causing some people to laugh.

"Why did your eyes flash blue?" Jenna asked.

Stiles paused, before he swallowed. "Maybe later, okay?" he told her softly, smiling sadly. Sometimes the McCall pack made the wrong choices, which led to innocents dying.

"Okay," Jenna nodded, and he could feel the pack bonds. It was an intricate web of threads, he realized and the more he thought of them as pack, the stronger they became.

"This is... Odd," he admonished.

Everyone laughed at that.

"Don't worry, we'll be here for you every step of the way," Val said soothingly.

Stiles looked at them and relaxed. He'd found somewhere safe, somewhere he'd be protected, now to tell his dad.


	5. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek squeezed his eyes closed and took in some calming breathes, feeling Allison's arms tighten around him. Who would have known he'd be finding comfort of a lost loved one in the arms of an Argent again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see this taking place the same time Stiles is going through the whole werewolf thing

Imagine Derek's surprise, when the welcoming party at his loft is missing a few players and gained a few others.

Ethan and Aiden were gone along with Stiles, and now there was Danny and Jackson. Immediately Derek scowled at all of those present and Scott flinched.

"Where's the rest of us?" Derek demanded.

"You know how I texted you that there had been some changes?" Scott asked slowly.

"What happened?" Derek demanded, dropping his bag. The room was too quiet, he noted. "Scott." He prompted after a stretch of silence.

"Well, see, there was an attack, Ethan and Aiden went power crazy... They turned into an Alpha and bit Danny. Everyone got hurt and Stiles stopped them. Well, killed them. It's just Stiles ran away a couple weeks later." Isaac winced as the words left him.

"Just packed up and left us. No goodbye. No nothing, not even a note." Lydia said, staring off into the distance. Her green eyes looked distant as she parroted it back to Derek. 

"And none of you tried to find him?" Derek pressed, feeling his eye flicker from his green to beta blue, but other wise keeping calm.

"He didn't want to be found! He left us, Derek!" Isaac snapped, hands coming up in frustration. "This was supposed to be our family but we can't even take care of our own."

Derek felt his stomach twist. "Why? Why would he leave us?"

Arms wrapped around him and he held fast to Allison, who muffled a sob into his shoulder. Everything was moving too slowly, it was too quiet and her harsh breathy sobs weren't helping calm him. Still, Derek pushed it back a little, applying what he'd learned during his time away and keeping a level head.

"I saw him, before he left," Jackson said slowly, as if he was unsure of speaking these words. A pair of eyes or two landed on him and he shifted a bit. "He looked like hell. He needed a break from this."

Some eyes flitted to Scott, who stood there in all his self angst, only feeling bad for the loss, and not that he hadn't tried to stop his brother from leaving. It felt like something had been torn away, loosing a pack member is like losing a limb. 

Everyone had felt this loss of limb. Not because of the bonds they had in their chest, which just affirmed that there was a pack they belonged to, but because their wolf grew to love him. They grew to see them as family and as Pack. 

Derek shook his head, unsure what to do with this information.

"How long has he been gone?" Derek wondered aloud.

"Almost a year." Lydia murmured, rubbing her palms on her skirt, pausing and thinking it over before nodding. "Just about."

Derek squeezed his eyes closed and took in some calming breathes, feeling Allison's arms tighten around him. Who would have known he'd be finding comfort of a lost loved one in the arms of an Argent again?

"I know me and him hardly got along and stuff, but he was important to us. Losing him was like losing a really annoying little brother, you know?" Danny's voice filtered from where he sat on his laptop, Peter a good couch cushion away from him. "Can we do the pack cuddling now?" He asked tearfully and mostly everyone nodded.

They all collapsed in the middle of the lofts living room in the pillowy den they had made earlier that month and Derek was all too glad to have this.

It was his turn to mourn the loss everyone had been dealing with. All too quickly they were a mess of tangled limbs, trying to find solace from the pain, and comfort in what they had here, wrapped up in familiar scents, and heartbeats. All so dependent on each other now, knowing what could be lost.

Derek hadn't felt this way with Boyd and Erica because they never really bonded. It had hurt, sure, but it would heal. More of a badly broken arm then a lost limb.

Seeing how Stiles leaving had left a huge gaping wound was how losing a pack member actually felt, and it was pulling them all together. Making them cling tightly to one another. Treating it like he died, instead of just him getting the hell out of Dodge. He found a cowardly way to run, and it might as well have been like he died, the way betrayal hurt just as bad. 

Who knew this was all it took? That thought depressed Derek further, making him hold tight to Lydia, who had pressed close to him. 

A silence filled the room again, making them that much more aware of the missing someone. His chatter was supposed to be there, saying something sarcastic about how gay this is, or if it was weird to have an awkward boner right then. 

Just heartbeats and breathing, and the smell of family, loss and hurt.

"Why would he do this to us?" Finally, Lydia sobbed out the words everyone had been thinking for months but refusing to admit.

Scott had tried his best to act like Stiles was going to come back, like it was prohibited to talk about the missing sarcastic asshole they all loved and tolerated, but at this point they all knew he wasn't.

 

Derek woke up in the center of a puppy pile. He smiled a little before the reality of why they were puppy piling set in and he rolled his eyes, expression annoyed. It turned into a frown quick enough, but he wasn't angry.

He rolled over to see Scott clinging to Allison and Allison doing the same. Isaac was holding Danny and Jackson had Isaac and stretched out over the expanse of their legs was Peter's own. Lydia had stayed near Derek the entire night, and somehow all of them were touching in some way.

As a kid, he had loved piling up with his family, it had felt like home should feel. He was glad they had achieved this much. Maybe... Maybe he'd talk to Scott about being Alpha and working on the pack bonding.

If only they had all stayed to see this moment, he grumbled as he started to move.

Derek sat up, stretching his arms above his head and hearing cracks from his back and shoulders before standing. He managed not to step on anyone as he headed for the kitchen and he felt pretty impressed with himself over it. A smirk had replaced the frown and he flipped the switch for the light before heading into the cold kitchen.

Breakfast was calling his name, and besides, he hadn't gone to Africa just to spend some quality time with Cora. He had definitely gone there to learn how to cook. He chuckled at the idea of that, because his cooking was edible now at least. 

Africa had been something different, and there had been others who weren't hunted, who had been around for a long time and were happy to share their wisdom. It'd been amazing, but he'd been excited about getting back home and, well, telling Stiles. The younger would've known what to do with the information, would've loved to learn it, he was sure. 

And his whole reason for coming home had skipped town almost a whole year ago. He felt like an idiot now. He'd been too caught up in his own life and figuring himself out, Stiles own problems had slipped him. He'd just expected the other to be here.

Derek opened his fridge to find it packed with food, and managed to find eggs and ham and cheese. There was limited veggies, but there was pico. Eggs sounded good anyway. They'd enjoy it, he knew. Probably been living off of microwave food.

Blearily, he rifled around until the pans were found and then he started to actually cook up some plates.

One by one, someone would come in and take a plate and a fork before trailing to the dining room table and talk softly in hushed tones, until someone else joined them.

Scott was the last to come in, having noticed Allison's sudden disappearance from his side. He was hiking his shirt up to scratch at his stomach when he took a plate and moved towards the table as well. The international image of every 17 year old everywhere, Derek thought ruefully as he took the last three eggs for himself.

He sat with them, noticing Lydia sitting on Isaac's lap, and Allison in Scott's. The lack of chairs became clear to him, until Jackson groaned and sat on the floor, giving up his chair for Derek.

Derek gave him an appreciative look, almost a smile. Jackson shoveled eggs into his mouth in response, not looking at Derek, but his cheeks tinged red.

Derek listened to the murmuring around him with a small smile, relaxed around the familiarity of the atmosphere. He turned to the table as a whole, smiling a little more in the resolve he had and gaining everyone's attention for the next words to leave his mouth. "I'm gonna bring Stiles back."

Everyone paused and turned to him, paying attention, while each in varying degrees of shock.

"I can't believe he thought no one would come for him. What an idiot." Derek added as he took another bite of his breakfast, getting smiles at that. "Besides, Jackson said so yesterday, it's only a break."

"How soon?" Lydia asked, eyes sparkling with the challenge, maybe, with excitement, probably.

"As soon as we can show him things are different here. That Beacon Hills is safe for him." Derek met Scott's eyes. And like that, there was a goal to achieve for the McCall pack. More energy in the air than sadness.

"And I'm not gonna hide any information, okay? If you need to talk or want to know what my old pack was like, guidance on anything, me and Peter are going to be here to make sure everything's smooth." He continued, making McCall smile. "Right, Peter?" 

A groan came from where Peter was slumped mostly on the table, half asleep.

"Now, it's not going to be easy, and I don't want to lie to you guys. We need to secure the nemeton, and Danny already has a pretty good idea about how it affects the whole of Beacon Hills, if I'm not mistaken. We're going to have to read up and learn about this, as well as start learning about what else is out there. Whenever your ready to start, dont hesitate to ask questions." Derek pointed a fork at Scott. "I can only help so much, you've got the most pressure, because you need to be step by step with them." 

Scott blinked and nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Don't worry, I'm a True Alpha. If I couldn't handle, I wouldn't have the name." Scott then paused before continuing. "I do want to know about how your old pack was run, and maybe we could brainstorm how to arrange the week nights while you tell me how exactly I'm supposed to be a good Alpha." 

Derek nodded, smiling. "Just swing by and we'll get started." He looked to everyone else. "Today, is the last day we're going to feel sorry for ourselves. There's too many things we need to do before we even have a chance of getting Stiles back. Once we're good and stable, however long it takes, we will find him and bring him home, and everyday we will remind him that he's an idiot if he thought we would let him go." 

"We've let go of too much already," Peter mumbled into the wood of the table.

Laughter started all around, and jokes and yeah. Yeah, they'd be fine.


	6. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everytime Ben cries, we wake up," Lucas reported.

It was decided Stiles would go in place of Jax for the birth of their son. Jax's very human status could mean broken bones and Maria couldn't worry about that and giving birth.

So there Stiles was, holding Maria's hand while she pushed, having his hand very thoroughly broken. He had stopped crying out after a while, his hand becoming numb. The constant sound of his bones snapping at some of the nurses looking worriedly at him but he just stonewalled on. Three hours and the eight month pregnant lady was only past the shoulders with the small baby.

Labor was nerve wrecking.

Stiles frowned as Maria screamed again, rolling her head back to take some harsh breathes. 

"You're doing good," Stiles told her, giving her hand a squeeze even though it shifted all the bones in his hands that were still healing. If he focused hard enough he could leech some of her pain, though only in small pulls because it _hurt_.

"Don't tell me what I'm doing, Stiles," Maria shot her Alpha death glare look to him, making him work not to cower right then and there. he had to be her rock right now and backing down wouldn't do him much good.

Instead he smiled at her. "Just keep pushing, you're almost the-ah, ow!" 

The increased pressure around his bones, ruining the healing process and breaking him from not flinching as a fresh wave of pain crashed into him. She clenched down on his hand again, screaming and pushing, her eyes squeezing closed.

 

6 hours of labor wasn't so bad, Stiles decided as they let him hold his new pack mate.

He was ugly, but in a cute way. His nose was small, but taking up a lot of space, and his wrinkled baby self made him think of old men, and the pink of his skin of a tiny little pig. His tiny hands clutched at his baby blanket, and brown/black hair dusted his head lightly. 

"He's cute," He murmured to Maria, doting on the small baby, rocking him a little and lightly touching the small, tiny hand that was curled close.

She grinned. "We're naming him after the former Alpha, my father. Benjamin."

"Benjamin, huh?" Stiles cooed, causing the small bundle to snuffle and shift. And then it was wailing and Stiles froze.

"Maria!" Stiles said, panicky. The baby was still crying, starting to scream. Maria held out her arms and immediately Stiles dumped the baby on her. Okay, maybe hastily handed was a better way of saying 'dumped'. And, like magic, the baby stopped crying.

Jax came in, toting food and a bag of, probably clothes and other things, making Maria brighten like he was Santa and Christmas had come early. "You brought food! For me? You love me!" Maria crowed and Stiles laughed, rushing out to escape their love fest.

 

"Ben and you are sharing a room." Lucas stated.

Stiles froze, mechanically turning and panicking. "I can't baby, Lucas. Why is he staying in my room? Lucas, I don't think you understand. What if it starts crying? What do I do if that happens?" Stiles flailed a hand as if to signify how clueless he was. A silence paused before Stiles blinked. "He starts crying, I mean."

Lucas smirked, trying to hide a smile. "I don't know, but Maria and Jax don't have space in their room. There's no way he's staying in my room. Mom and Dad also don't have room. The girl's already share a room. Your dad leaves at strange hours, so he's a no. Besides, you're on the day bed in the nursery anyway." Lucas shrugged, unaffected.

Stiles flashed his eyes in warning but then sighed. "What about Alex?"

"You think Alex is going to put up with that baby? She'll get her revenge every night, by waking us all up when the baby starts crying."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, thinking it over before groaning. "Fine. But your mom better be giving me a crash course in what to do. The nurse had to show how to hold him, but what about feeding and stuff? I mean, what if-"

"Tell it to someone who cares Stilinski!" Lucas sighed in agitation, walking away.

Stiles could cry in that moment. Where was Val?

"Val!"

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles peered down at the sleeping new born in the crib next to his bed. Ben looked peaceful enough. So, Stiles crept around, putting his pajamas on and flipping the light off, and crawled into bed. 

Wasn't so bad, not even the creaking of the springs was that loud. And he only hit his foot once against the dresser, but he stood very still afterwards and didn't curse at the burst of pain. So it was a success, if he really wanted to stretch it. Sort of stretch it. He deserved some credit.

With a sigh of relief, he relaxed more into his sheets, the warm comforter no longer smothering him. His hand was still healing, as the three days Maria was in the hospital after the delivery only healed it a bit. Wounds from Alpha's took longer to heal. 

Sadly, within three minutes, there came a little cough from the crib and it was quickly followed by a sharp cry. Stiles quickly got up, flipping the light on and going to see what was wrong.

The crying stopped and Stiles watched Ben wipe at his nose with his tiny fist, going back to sleep.

Stiles frowned, turning the light back off.

Waiting.

After a minute, he moved back to lay down when the crying started again and he groaned, flipping the light on.

The crying stopped.

"Are you scared of the dark? This young?" Stiles whispered, frustrated, throwing a hand up in the air.

The baby cooed. Mocking him. Stiles eyes narrowed before his shoulder slumped. 

He groaned after a second, and crawled in bed, not bothering with the light.

Looks like sleep wasn't in the cards tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles dragged himself over to where Ben had started to cry for the third time that night. His nerves where shot and he felt the need to crawl up and die. Sleep deprivation made crawling on a sidewalk seem like the softest bed.

"How about a story, Ben?" Stiles grumbled as he picked the baby up and switched the light off. He sat on his bed, lightly bouncing the 6 lbs 11 ounce baby.

The only response was a hiccup of tears.

"Once upon a time there was a boy named Scott. All he wanted was to be noticed. He had one friend, named Stiles. Scott and Stiles were best friends, and one day, Stiles thought it would be a good idea to look for a dead body in the forest. Hint, Benji, my boy, it was not. That night, Scott got bitten by an Alpha werewolf.

"Scott and Stiles figured out how to control the wolf all the while getting popular and getting more friends. Their circle of two grew larger and larger. Became a pack. Soon, Scott and Stiles ran into some trouble though, a group called the Alpha Pack came to get an alpha to join them. Scott was one of them, though at the time, he was still a beta. Derek was the other, but he was so messed up, he refused to join.

"Now, Derek, he had been trying to help from the beginning, but Stiles and Scott kept ruining his life more and more. Dude was just trying to help, to figure out what was happening himself, fast enough to help us. He was a real hero. Um, anyway... They killed two of our's and went to make a move on the rest of us, but Scott became a True Alpha and fought them off with the help of Derek. Now a True Alpha, is like someone who is a natural leader. My theory is that True Alpha's were the original Alpha's and that they were one day slaughtered and found that their power transferred over. Not that that matters to you. In any case, Derek gave up being an Alpha in favor of saving his sister's life. 

"Derek left afterwards, to get away from all of us, after his girlfriend, Jennifer, turned out to be totally crazy and bloodthirsty. He took his sister with them, I think they're still in Africa, actually. " Stiles paused to brush wispy brown hair around on Ben's head, who nuzzled him with his nose.

"Anyway, Scott was growing colder and colder to Stiles, relying more and more on others. And while that was great, Stiles was still left with one or two other people. He missed Scott all the time, even though the other hadn't even realized it had happened. Then Stiles noticed that Scott was even relying more on two members of the Alpha pack. He got upset, so he went to a party one night, out at a friends lake house.

"Scott had went too, but to look for a wendigo, which he hadn't told Stiles about. So, while Stiles was with a girl named Caitlin, he went to a back room to hang out with a few friends. one of them was the wendigo. He got a very bad case of the munchies while we were back there and... he attacked us. Stiles didn't know what to do, he was so- so scared. He watched as a friend named Heather was killed in front of him. He had come prepared though, because that's what living there had done. Had prepared him for people dying. 

"The wendigo went for Caitlin, and injured her badly. Luckily, Stiles killed him before he could do anything else. Scott was somewhere in the party, with his girlfriend. They had been dancing, trying to blend into the crowd, and got caught up in each other. They were so in love, like Romeo and Juliette, and a lot of times they seemed like they would also die like Romeo and Juliette. It was a fire too hot for them, at their age, and Scott wasn't exactly cut out for giving up. Not to mention, Scott had a hero complex that made him think he had to save the world. He was taken off guard by the whole situation at the party, had froze up. Couldn't do anything to help.

"Stiles, though, was left with Caitlin who was dying in front of him, slowly. She begged Stiles not to let her die like that, bleeding out and in pain, told him it hurt too much, wondered if it hurt like this for E-Emily." Stiles sniffled a little, recalling the night. At the brunette's gasping ragged breathes, shaky fingers that gripped him harshly to show him she was there, she was alive, and she was begging for a mercy-killing.

"So, Stiles did what he had to do. He killed her quickly to save her from all the pain, from the fear she was feeling. He couldn't deal with it for awhile, that he had killed someone, someone he thought was so close to him. Even if it was saving them. He didn't know what to do with himself, just sat there holding her for the longest time. Until the blood dried and...

"Eventually someone found him and screamed for help, because Stiles didn't come out uninjured either He is only human, after all. Scott and Allison were the first on the scene, coming to see if it was the wendigo and imagine their surprise at seeing Stiles there. The days that past afterwards caused a huge strain on Scott and Stiles, because Scott was trying too hard at trying to take up the same position of best friend, and failing so miserably that it had Stiles sinking further and further. 

"Lydia, a smart beautiful girl, petitioned for movie night where supernatural talk wasn't allowed and it worked for awhile. Scott and Stiles were no where close to being friends, and sure everyone hated one another somehow in some way, but it worked. We even inducted this kid who didn't know so we especially couldn't talk about it." Stiles laughed wetly. Ben made a noise like he was going to cry too, so Stiles continued.

"That's not to say that all the sudden we had no more problems with supernatural forces and Scott and Stiles didn't work together, because there was, and they did. Just not as well, and with less words, and more awkward silences.  The former Alpha Pack members ruined everything though. They figured out they could still shift together. They hadn't expected it. No one died, thankfully... well except for the twins, but, uh, no one really minded. Stiles got scared, got scared that he'd have to watch his friends die one by one, or that he himself would die. He couldn't handle that. That maybe more would die, and all for nothing. Just pointless killing, pointless deaths.

"So, he got his dad and himself to pack up and leave. And he found home in a new pack, the Ramirez Pack. They were family, they were safe. I can see why Derek was so angry that his pack wasn't turning into what he wanted." Stiles sighed down to the quiet weight on his chest.

Carefully, Stiles set him down, cooing at every too fast movement and shift. All Ben did was rub at his face and nuzzle the pillow.

Stiles sighed in relief, collapsing in bed and finally, finally getting sleep.

 

The next morning, he got a good long look from Lucas before being pulled into a bro hug.

Stiles returned it, though he was very confused. Slowly, he peeled away.

"You are, you know?" Lucas gave him a pointed look.

"Are...?" Stiles trailed off, still thoroughly confused.

"Family," Lucas stated, like it was obvious, with a sarcastic smile to top it off.

Alex came out her room next, looking over and joining, sleepily resting her weight on the two guys.

 "Thanks, I take it you listened in on my story to Ben?" He mumbled.

Alex laughed a little, the end turning into a yawned "Uh huh."

Stiles rolled his eyes but followed them downstairs to the dining room.

"Every time Ben cries, we wake up," Lucas reported.

"At least I'm not the only one suffering," Stiles grinned in glee, and collective groans were heard from the rooms that no one had emerged from just yet.

Ah, the gift of childbirth.


	7. Part 3

Maria was the first one up, the first one growling, making everyone alert. Val clutched Brion's shoulder tightly, waving her kids closer to her.

They seemed to cower into their mother, despite being 13 and 15 years old, and Lucas, 20 years old, hovered right over his mom and dad, like to protect them.

Stiles flinched, stopping his card game with Ben to go to his own father as if to protect the elder. Not that much elder, but still pretty old, going from 52 to 56. That was a big difference, in Stiles mind.

Ben looked like Stiles had insulted him, but he didn't have time to complain as his mother picked him up.

"What's wrong, mama?" Ben lilted. Being three, almost four in the coming year, as he was an early January baby, he hadn't developed any wolf senses, and he was basically a defenseless, sarcastic, demanding, cute, toddler that sometimes crashed into walls if he didn't look where he was going when he ran. Maria blamed Stiles, said Ben had seen it so often as a baby he adapted it, and Stiles, in turn, bought Ben a football helmet that was too big. But he also stopped running into walls to prevent the loss of anymore brain cells for Ben and himself.

"A very powerful pack just crossed the border we had Gramps set up." Maria murmured.

Tom, aka Gramps, had possessed the spark as well, they had come to find out. Knowing that, Stiles told his dad to set up a perimeter of sorts. Like a trip wire to let them known when supernatural beings came in. You lose the spark when you become a werewolf, so Stiles couldn't. It hadn't gone off for, maybe two or three years, though, so they had mistakenly felt safe. And so, 'powerful pack' might mean that they'll have a large dispute over territory, and some one might get killed and the fear that this place was unsafe was ice cold in Stiles chest, and he was struggling not to wolf out, anchoring his thoughts with 'safe, it's okay, safe' even though some irrational part said no it wasn't.

"How many?" Jax asked lowly, rubbing a hand over Maria's arm, soothing her.

"Five, maybe six..." Maria shook her head, a frown marring her smile lines. "Pack Law forbids them to come onto our land without being invited by the alpha. They aren't allowed to be here."

"Maria..." Val murmured. "What do you want to do?"

"You, Brion and Jax are coming with me to go find the new Pack. We'll tell them to leave. Lucas, you're in charge." Maria pointed to Lucas, then continued to swing it towards Stiles. "Stiles, keep the kids safe."

Lucas nodded and Stiles got an armful of Jenna and Sara, with a side serving of wanna-be monkey Ben. "Yes ma'am," Stiles said dutifully.

Tom stood. "I'm going with you," He told Maria, gaze unwavering, not to be denied.

Maria hesitated, a calculating look passing over her face for the briefest second, Stiles almost missed it, before she nodded, despite the younger Stilinski's indignant cry. "Of course, having law enforcement on our side would help."

Stiles glared at the ground, sour with the decision but holding his tongue, because it was safer to just agree with her than to argue and get kicked out, or worse, killed. He was a good beta, let that be known, he never went against what his alpha said unless he was suggesting something. Just, sometimes he wished for his old pack, where he could speak freely, where he was really, actually, needed. Which was stupid, Stiles concluded, shutting the door on it, as he would probably be dead if he stayed there.

Maria stood, sweeping out of the room, the adults following while Stiles looked at the floor like he could set it on fire with his mind. Something didn't feel right about this, but he couldn't really out his finger on it other than his dad was also going.

Lucas sighed. "Dude, my mom bought brownie mix. Aren't you like a Martha Stewart wannabe?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, shoving the other hard. Lucas laughed, rubbing at his arm, seemingly unaffected, despite the few shuffled steps he had to take. Werewolf strength was a gift on a good day.

"Who wants to help me make brownies?" Stiles asked, albeit lacking excitement.

 

* * *

 

Maria glared at the others in front of her.

He had a crooked jaw line and a mustache and beard, neatly trimmed, with nice shoes, dark jeans and a blue Henley. He couldn't be older than Stiles, though, if Maria was honest. And he was an Alpha.

The Alpha stepped forward and locked his eyes on Sheriff Stilinski.

"Scott." Sheriff greeted, though not too warmly.

"Sheriff, we're here to try and bring you and Stiles home. To Beacon Hills." He stated clearly. Not threatening, just as if stating a fact. Maria didn't like it.

"I'm sorry, but... We have no intentions of leaving. It's safe here." Sheriff Stilinski answered. "Now, Maria is trying to tell you something son, and you're being really rude. I mean, this is her territory and you are trespassing." He lifted his brows and indicated a nod to her. Maria felt her lips tighten together, as she proudly pushed out her Alpha aura, red eyes flashing to him. She was not going to be trifled with, her things would not be taken away from her.

"Oh! Uh, sorry!" He turned a little red in the cheeks, bobbing his head towards her. The group surrounding him seemed to have the same tense reaction to the flashing of her eyes by balking up more.

Maria watched with one eye brow raised. How was this boy even an Alpha? Too soft, too nice, he had never really murdered any one, never taken something so valuable it couldn't be replaced. "You're Scott? Who's all with you?" she asked, eyes narrowing. Scott sounded familiar.

"I am, and this is my fiancée Allison. Uh, my second, Derek. Isaac and Lydia." Scott pointed at each and smiled widely. Proud of his mismatched pups. It made Maria want to sneer, but she withheld. The names were familiar. It snapped into place when the redhead smiled a bit to Tom, who nodded back with a hint of a smile in return. They had just put faces to the names Stiles would tell scary stories about to the children.

She looked them over carefully, cataloging them. Allison was a petite brunette with pale skin and a dimpled smile, hair slightly wild, but in a good way. Pretty, even, wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket.

Opposed to the girl who had smiled at Tom, the redhead. She, too, was pale, but with fire engine red lipstick and a black tank top and a cheetah print skirt that was a little high in Maria's taste. The matching pumps really tied it together though.

Isaac looked like a cute baby faced grown man, like an angel, with a mop of curls, and more pale skin, that might be a fashion statement, but Maria wasn't entirely sure. Tall, lanky, and dressed in a suit, he kind of made you want to pinch his cheek.

Next, and last, was Derek. He had broad shoulders that stretched his t-shirt, which was a faded Beacon Hills Basket Ball maroon thing, with white lettering. He had stubble, like he had forgotten to shave in the past couple days, and Maria had to say, he wasn't terrible looking. He also seemed pretty comfortable with Maria sizing him up, almost like he understood, but she doubted he did, as he was just some impure beta, who would never understand an Alpha's power, and she doubted he ever would.

Maria frowned at them and they all blanched, except for Lydia. She frowned back, giving a similarly cold look to Maria.

"You don't have my permission to be on my land. Pack Law states that. Unless you want the Ramirez pack to go to war on your asses, I suggest you leave." Maria said calmly. Warnings were flashing in her head.

"B-but--" Scott gaped, scrambling, wide eyed to reason with her. She never let her things get taken. Not by anyone.

"She's right, Scott," Derek murmured, hand coming to rest on his Alpha's elbow, as if to hold him back from doing something stupid. "The Ramirez pack is known for having connections. You don't want to mess with her."

Maria smirked a bit, meeting the beta's eyes. He knew, he wasn't a pup. Not like these others, still wet behind the ears.

"I came here for Stiles. He said, no, he promised he'd be my best man at my wedding. That's in 2 weeks!" Scott frowned at Derek, obviously asserting Alpha dominance over the other. He didn't seem to comprehend Maria wasn't into loaning out her things either. If it was hers, it was hers and no one else's. Her territory, her pack, her rules.

Derek shook his head, eyes sliding to Maria again, and taking a few more steps to be equal with Scott.

"Pack law also states that another member from a different pack can stay if they challenge you for a mate." Derek met her eyes, so she was in his attention. She ground her teeth a little.

"Yes." she agreed, not saying anything more.

"I'm challenging the Ramirez pack for Stiles Stilinski." Derek glared, hard and long. "And I'm not going to give up until he's back with me in Beacon Hills."


	8. Part 3

Maria rubbed her temples as Val updated her where exactly Derek would be staying. This was... This was rare, and practically unheard of in these parts. It was fucking up her plans, her schedule, and her entire month. Making her edgy. She didn't like it when things didn't go her way.

Challenging an alpha for one of her betas was a bit of a death wish. And she had yet to tell Stiles because his answer would also influence the match. Derek was ready to take on an Alpha for Stiles. 

Prepared to cast his life aside. She wasn't willing to give up her first turned Beta.

The matches were set in trials and an emissary had to be present during them. Each trial would be different, and harder than the last. The emissary and the alpha would have to agree on what trials. If Stiles gave in, it'd only be one trial. But Maria would make sure Stiles saw it from her perspective. Made sure he knew he wouldn't be safe there, that here was though, that she could provide for him where he'd never get hurt. Continue to live in his glass bubble.

"Time to tell him?" Val wondered out loud, breaking Maria's thought process.

"Over breakfast." Maria sighed, making her way past her sister-in-law to head towards the dining room, while lightly rubbing her temples. She didn't need this. Val was not helping by pressuring her.

As she swept in, she saw Stiles sitting at the table, looking ready to know what the others did, eyes locked on Maria. She stayed silent, grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl. Casting a short second glance to the brownies on the counter, not really caring, but keeping it in mind for later.

Stiles huffed and went back to his eggs, poking and prodding at them with a fork, before shoving a bite into his mouth.

"Derek Hale has made a challenge against me to claim you as his mate." Maria stated calmly. Best to just face it and see how Stiles reacted, so she knew how to play her cards with him.

Stiles made a choking noise, coughing and sputtering. His fork clattered to his plate. His hand knocked into his cup and spilt it all over the table.

Everyone watched him as he flailed around and made a move to stand, only to fall on the floor and make loud swear words at the pain, having cleared his throat of the soppy eggs. Ben laughed and pointed at him.

"Untle Stiles fell, mama!" He exclaimed.

Maria put her face in her hands. This is what he decided to do with the gift of the bite. Ben just clapped his hands, hitting the table while saying "again".

"Where is he?" Stiles rasped from the floor, not standing up yet.

 

* * *

 

Derek looked up as incessant knocking came to his nasty, cheap, motel door. He didn't mind so much that Maria put him here, as was her right, he just hated the thin walls and barely clean sheets. They felt startchy, and made him want lotion while he sweat between the sheets. The heart beat on the other side was slightly fast but slowing as the seconds past, making Derek figure the person was nervous. Maybe one of Maria's beta's to negotiate or go over the trails or something. 

He grumbled a little about the early hour, padding to the door while dragging his finger nails scraped his scalp. Really, he didn't want to see anyone but Scott, to talk one more time about what this meant, about what Derek was risking to fulfill the promise between the ex-best friends, but he swung the door open anyways.

Immediately a shaggy haired brunette with gnarly scars on his face pushed in and slammed the door closed, making Derek stumble back as well, eyes widening at the sight of him.

Derek gaped at Stiles. Stiles _Stilinski_. Who was all grown up, 22 years old, with scars running over his face like he stepped out of a scary movie, and a deep burning anger in his eyes. Derek had seen that anger before, had had it directed at him a couple times before he left, but this was also the boy he had seen cry when Jennifer had kidnapped his dad, with his gooey center. Well, looking at him now, his gooey center was a little hard to find. It was mostly killing intent and _w o w_ if looks could kill Derek would be having a heart attack.

Stiles eyes looked murderous, the honey brown of them looking darker than usual. He had a snarl on his lips, that twisted his scars and he looked pissed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Stiles demanded. The first words that had been spoken between them in four or five years.

Derek worked his mouth before scowling. "Claiming you as my mate. So we could talk. And sort things out. I mean, I don't--no offense to Alpha Ramirez, but she didn't seem the type to let us set up a meeting, and she has no way of contacting her." he grounded through his teeth.

"You're such a dumb ass. I don't want to talk. I don't want to sort things out. I want to live my life, Derek. I want to know I won't have an off and on chance of dying! Or of my father dying! Or of you or anyone else dying!" Stiles hissed.

"You're being stupid. Everything in Beacon Hills is fine now. We have things settled. It's safe there. You can come home." Derek sniffed, a little petulant. Stiles was ruining his beautifully prepared speech, that he was in the process of writing down on the small kitchenette table. Derek cast a look to it, forlorn that he had wasted more than six hours working on it.

"I'm not going back to Beacon Hills. Miller County is my home now." Stiles snapped. As if it was a finality. _Like hell it was_ , Derek thought.

"No, its not, its some temporary vacation. We all need you, do you realize what you leaving did to us? It ruined us. But we made Beacon Hills safe and now we're hauling your ass back." Derek snarled. He didn't mean to say it like that. He was loosing his cool like he always did around Stiles.

"I'm not going back, Derek! There's no chance in hell. Why are you even doing this? You hate me!" Stiles scowled, waving a slightly calloused hand at Derek, as if in emphasis.

"Because I need you!" Derek roared.

A silence gathered in the room, letting Derek take into account how much his opening speech was ruined. And for Stiles to feel the shock at those words. They weren't what he was expecting. No one had needed him back at Beacon Hills, he was just there, getting them into trouble, and finding ways out of problems he created.

Their heavy breathing was the only noise, pounding hearts turning a bit slower as they both tried to think things over, process.

"We... We need you." Derek winced at his correction. This was not helping. He kind of wanted a redo, he hadn't expected to ruin this so quickly. It made his eyes sting a little, like he was going to cry. Which he really didn't need. 

Stiles glare lessened and he took a step back, making the distance grow. Making Derek want to close that distance to remind Stiles that pack meant together forever. Like a gang. But, like, totally not because gangs aren't real family the way pack is.

"They need me too," he whispered, the words soft but hitting Derek in the stomach like a solid punch.

"Stiles, please," Derek whispered, just as soft, to match, because raising his voice might make it crack like a 10 year old's, and that would just be embarrassing and he was already trying not to cry. "Please."

"Please, what, Derek?" Stiles whispered back, harshly, but still quietly. Quietly was worse than shouting. "I can't."

And then Stiles started out the door, the reaffirming click of it making Derek feel his heart pound a little faster, his breathes draw in quicker. He couldn't breathe, he had messed up yet again, he thought he had this, oh god he was wrong. Did he not think it threw? Did Stiles not see what was going on? Did he really shut himself into this pretend world where others didn't need him? That it wasn't just affecting him, but everyone around him?

Derek gasped for air as tears leaked from his eyes and his hearing fuzzed out, the sounds overwhelming him, from passing cars to the static next door.

But overall, the sound of Stiles retreating steps.

Stiles, leaving, yet again.

_I can't breathe._

_I can't-_

_I-_

Was this having a panic attack?


	9. Part 3

Stiles made it all the way to his jeep as Derek's heart started racing, but paused with his keys in hand.

He couldn't leave Derek like that... He couldn't. No matter how big of an asshole he thought Derek was being. No matter how much of an asshole he, himself, was. He couldn't do it, it wasn't in him.

So, Stiles raced back to the room, opening the door and looking at where Derek had curled up on the floor, back resting on the foot of the bed. He looked alarmed at Stiles reappearance, but Stiles was there in a second. Gathering Derek up in his arms, letting him shake a little, shudder breaths into his shoulder.

"Derek, look at me," Stiles murmured lowly, and Derek snapped his gaze to Stiles, blinking a little, breathes labored.

Stiles thanked Lydia silently, before crashing his lips onto the others.

Derek responded, not even thinking, probably. His lips were soft and his movements a bit slow, but he responded. At first, his lips were fast and incessant before it slowed, more of a press after a second, and Stiles could imagine rougher biting kisses of anger, fueling moans.

Derek's stubble rubbed at his cheeks and chin, grating and rubbing a little uncomfortably, but Stiles didn't mind. His hand came up to tilt Stiles head just so, and run on the hair on the nape of his neck. The other seemed more calm, heartbeat slowing, skipping a beat before evening out.

Stiles rubbed a thumb across Derek's upper arm before pulling back. Meeting Derek's wide eyes, blown pupils.

"I learned it from Lydia. If you stop breathing for awhile, your heart kicks in to regulate." Stiles murmured.

"You... You came back?" Derek whispered. He sounded hopeful, he sounded amazed, and it made Stiles pause.

"I guess so. You needed me." Stiles shrugged, playing it off. "This is my home now Derek, I'm not leaving. I don't have a place back home, you don't need me. I know what you guys are doing, just causing unnecessary drama for me and my pack. I know how you guys think, I was a part of this, remember?" 

"Then why cant you see we need you now? That..." Derek's expression fell a little. "That I need you."

"Derek, please. Please," he sighed, a little shaky, because this was what he needed year ago, and it was messing with him. Wiggling ways into his head and making ideas he had laid to rest reappear. "Drop this. Stop fighting. You won't win." ' _I won't give in'_ went unspoken.

Derek immediately had an expression of steel, determined and set. "I won't. I won't stop. Not until you come back with me. You're afraid to get hurt again, and you know, that's the most dangerous thing you an do to yourself, Stiles. Not live."

"It's not going to happen." Stiles snapped. "I think I know what's best for myself."

"That's what you think," Derek smiled, sardonic, and Stiles sunk a little, not resisting an eye roll.

"As soon as I claim you as my mate, Stiles, you'll be stuck with me." Derek stated, eye brows seemingly pleased. "And you'll know exactly when I need you." With that, dErek leaned a little more into Stiles embrace.

"Keep your lewd comments to yourself," Stiles snorted, pushing Derek out of his arms.


	10. Part 3

Stiles sat across from Derek at the diner. The booth plastic crinkled behind them anytime they, or anyone, leaned back in it, and the tables felt sticky in the fast food way. The cleaner was faint to smell and the air condition pushed in the smell of the back grease and air freshner.

Derek was cutting up his pancakes while Stiles slathered ketchup over his eggs. It was a quirk, but he had no guilt. He hadn't really finished his breakfast this morning, after the whole choking and spilling incident after the announcement, and Derek hadn't eaten at all yet.

The only sound was from all the tables around them, and the baby screaming at the cash register. 

The silence stretched, and the waitress fumbled over to refill their glasses to clear the air, and ask if everything was okay. Derek had smiled and nodded, Stiles giving a terse nod, and said thank you, not relaxing even after she left.

"So," Derek started, face hopeful for a talk.

"So." Stiles cut him off, giving him a _look_.

"I'm trying, okay?" Derek frowned at him. "We were all trying. Especially Scott, and Lydia. After you left, those two realized that going out and doing things on their own didn't work, okay? They realized you weren't just there as a tag along." Derek shook his head, grabbing the syrup and aggressively drizzling it over the stack. "I came back and I tried to fix it, I did. And I decided that fixing it would be bringing you back."

Derek looked up now, meeting Stiles stony face.

"You know where you belong. And it's not with them. You know it, and we know it."

Silence started again.

Stiles breathed in deeply and held it, counting to five before releasing it. "You don't understand. My dad is the only thing I have left and that hell hole almost got him killed. Not in the least to mention me. I'm not ready to give up everything I have for a lost cause and some patchwork pack."

Derek's head whipped up and he pointed the syrupy fork at Stiles. "Bullshit. That is a bullshit excuse, you were just tired of being forced to help, patchwork or not." He narrowed his eyes.

"I was never forced into anything! Especially saving you!" Stile raised his voice, feeling a frustrated anger rear its head. The outburst caused some other tables to quiet down and eyes to be cast towards them.

Heat started to crawl over the back of Stiles neck and face, a dark color staining said places and the tips of his ears. He dunked his head a bit, as if to hide from the sudden attention.

Derek blinked at him in surprise and Stiles cleared his throat. "The pack. Especially saving the pack. Me helping had nothing to do with you. You just happened to be hopeless without me during those times." He backtracked a bit, skittering over his words. Conversation started back up around them, though there was obviously a couple interested people looking imploringly at them.

At any rate, it was too late, Derek's face was getting all soft and a smirk was on his face as he fit in almost a whole half of a pancake into his mouth with little grace. Stiles fought the urge to swallow watching him do it.

"Stiles, you are only pushing me towards keeping you." Derek said in a determined voice. 

Stiles groaned, eating some of his eggs so he wouldn't have to talk anymore. After he swallowed, Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe you're doing this to get me to go to Beacon Hills." He snorted, drinking some more of his water.

"I'm not, I mean, not just to bring you back," Derek shoveled in another bite, prohibiting anything more, making Stiles wait for him to explain. "Don't get me wrong, I, at first, was all set on getting you, but at one point I almost... Discarded it, I guess? I thought we were well enough and we had moved on, and maybe we should leave you to this. But it didn't... You were a missing puzzle piece, it wasn't working without you. We weren't a whole. Still aren't. But there are other reasons besides that, I'm not just here for this."

"You're not?" It was soft and Derek smiled at his fork. Stiles wanted to come back. He just didn't know it yet.

"Scott's getting married. He wants you as his best man, and Lydia is pregnant. Not to mention, I miss you. I came back with so much to tell you and you weren't there, it was heart breaking." And another bite. At this rate he was going to run out of pancakes and they'd actually have to talk-talk. 

Stiles stared blankly at Derek, blinking once or twice as that processed. "Who's he marrying? Who's the father? What do you mean you missed me?" 

"Allison, don't know, but we all suspect it's Isaac's," Derek took a drink of water. "Of course I missed you."

"My head hurts." Stiles groaned, rubbing his brain as a knot seemed to form at the thought of Allison and Scott still being together, and Lydia dating asshole Isaac, and Derek being excited to see him when he got home. The idea of _that_ made Stiles stomach flutter.

Derek looked to him with sympathy, as he polished off his last pancake. "Want me to drive you home? Get you some advil?" He went to stab a piece os sausage onto his syrup covered fork, only for Stiles to block it with his own.

Stiles glared over the table at him, bringing his fork down into the sausage. Derek smirked a bit, letting his utensil fall away and Stiles took a bite of the salty meat.

He had hardly touched his eggs truthfully, as he had been watching Derek inhale his pancakes like he had never eaten before. The ketchup covered eggs sat soggy and forlorn in front of him. He wasn't that hungry for them anymore.

"Fine, but your paying for this meal."

Derek's face lit up in a smile, and he gladly put a twenty down and then an extra five for tip before standing and waiting for Stiles to as well. He'd hummed something like "And here I go, showing I can provide for my mate," when he'd put the money down, which had Stiles ears heating and him scrambling to stand and escape from anymore weird stomach flipping moments.

"And quit smiling, you're making it worse!" Stiles marched in front of him, throwing his hands up, causing some customers to smile and giggle, the whispered 'aw, looks' folowing them out the door.

Derek's mood only seemed to improve. Stiles was secretly glad that the other was feeling better, but he wasn't going to say anything. Best not to, not when he wasn't going to choose the McCall Pack. Was he?


	11. Part 4

Scott sat across from Stiles on the middle ground agreed upon by the Ramirez Pack. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but tense. 

The picnic table creaked as Scott shifted a bit on the wood, a low groan human ears wouldn't really catch. Children nearby were screaming and the birds were filling in the space between them as each waited for the other to go first. Scott's patient face, coupled with Stiles scowl was enough to have people steer clear of the trail leading towards them.

"I don't see why you're doing this." Stiles finally managed from a tight throat. "I don't want to leave. This is my family now, this is where I belong."

"No it's not." Scott shut him down almost immediately. "You can feel it." 

Stiles shook his head. "Here, Scott. I'm here. Congratulations on your soon to be marriage, the fact doesn't change that this is my home, my family, my brothers and sisters," he tried. Something in his chest constricted but he didn't acknowledge it much. It wasn't as important as convincing Scott to back off. To let him live his trouble free life. His safe life.

"You're cowardly." Scott smiled a bit. "You started off so brave and smart, so ready to fix problems and find solutions. And now..." Scott gave him a grim look. "You got hurt. Not just physically, but emotionally. Time and again. Basically reaching your hand into the fire and keeping it there instead of drawing away. You lasted a long time. Even Derek left. Hell, Isaac went to France because he needed a cooling period, no pun intended. Cora never belonged with us to begin with, though. Not like you. You know where your heart is. We may have fought, left on a bad foot, but fuck Stiles, it was partly your fault. You can't just blame it all on us, you can't. If it was an issue, you should have said something, I can't read minds! I can't guess at whats going on, I was barely 17! I was trying as hard as I could, and I needed you and you left."

Scott inhaled sharply as Stiles eyes watered, and he blew out slowly. 

"My point is, it wasn't just you. You left us behind and we mourned you. We respected your wish to leave for three years, we let you get rest, and now we are here to reality check you. I know you. I've known you since we were 5, I know you better than you know yourself. Fuck, Stiles, don't you get it?" Scott shook his head, the curse sounding desperate. "You won't admit it to yourself but you've never felt like you belong, no matter how hard they try to include you. It isn't the same is it?"

Stiles winced as Scott hit the nail on the head. "So? It's safe here. They care about me here. They let me live my life."

"Is that how you want to live? Taking the short way? Settle with the safe option? Instead of family, you'll choose the, what, fill in? Instead of going with the people you love, you go with the people who won't reject you. The _safe option_ , tucked away to never be hurt, to never experience life, have no bad times to recognize the good ones?

"Well, guess what, that's not how you live. How anyone lives. Shit happens, we don't get what we want, we don't get into the colleges we want, sometimes our loved one's die in our arms, sometimes someone we thought we'd always have leaves, sometimes you're left with only the family you built with duct tape and tears and blood, and everything else is gone. Sometimes the bills get too high and the house gets foreclosed on, sometimes people try to hurt you, or the ones you love, sometimes you get hurt, but you fucking keep going. You don't run away. You don't try to fit yourself into someone's little box, or even your own little box. You keep going." Scott sounded hoarse at the end. "And you live for the one's who are gone."

Stiles stared at his...

His what? Scott wasn't his friend, Stiles had ended that. Wasn't his brother, his captain, his alpha, wasn't his teammate. They weren't anything, and it was like a punch in the chest.

He sneered a bit. "Is this supposed to motivate me? Some sappy words slapped together? Want to tell me your sob story to make me feel bad and come crawling back?"

"I don't have a sob story." Scott shook his head, a lopsided, sad smile breached his lips as he met Stiles' eyes. "I went from having one best friend and one amazing mom, to losing them both and still finding the love of my life, making a home for myself, a name for the pack, and got an education when everything seemed to be so very hard. I overcame, and yeah, it hurt and sometimes I just felt like giving up, but I didn't it. And I'm happy I didn't. A lot of that was thanks to Derek."

Stiles fist clenched. "What do you mean 'lost them both'?" 

"My mom is dead." Scott nodded somberly. "She died in order to satiate the need for peace. She has been the last supernatural death in Beacon Hills, it's been two years." 

Stiles mouth felt dry, and it stung him a bit to find this out. Melissa had been a second mother to him, and it ripped some part of him in two, to know he had missed her last years. That this woman who had kissed scraped knees and reminded him to wash his hands before eating was no longer here. Just like his own. 

"I'm so sorry, Scotty." Stiles swallowed, heart thudding from the swell of upset in his stomach. 

"Don't be, if you come to Beacon Hills, if Derek manages to snap you back to reality, you'll see." Scott smiled wanly. "Besides, he's filled with motivational sentences. It's weird."

Stiles raised a brow. "Yeah? Derek? Sourwolf?"

"He told me one time, 'If you leave now, you'll always leave. That once you start you don't stop', and it snapped me out of my funk. He's got his inspiring moments. Later, he told me, he told that to Boyd and Erica, before they left, and it was... he's my brother now, I can't explain that. It was like you and me, only different because he's not you, he's Derek." Scott shook his head. "And he believes in you. I do too. I know you'll make the right decision, not just for yourself, but for the good everyone. Stop playing house, and actually come home."

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles breathed deeply as he watched Maria slide into the seat across from him. The recently vacated seated, thanks to one phone call from Allison, saying that Lydia wanted pop-tarts ASAP and Scott has the car.

"As custom, I have to ask." Maria paused, letting Stiles adjust for a second.

Stiles looked to her questioningly.

"Would you like to accept Derek Hale, of the McCall Pack as your mate?" Maria met his eyes, expression blank.

Stiles stared at her blankly for a minute before shaking his head towards her.

"I don't know, Maria, I don't..." 

She gave him a sad smile, not in understanding, but in comfort. "I'll give you some time." But a serious air took over, his Alpha's oppressive aura radiating down on him. "Make the right choice when the time come, Stiles."


	12. Part 4

Derek sat in the library, watching the college kids over the edge of his book.

Stiles had been 16 when Derek had last seen him, pale, unblemished skin, dotted with freckles and a witty smile, was what the younger remained as in his memories. Derek had hoped the pack would be getting ready for college when he came back, that things would be ready for him to solve as he'd had so much time to think.

He had solutions, he had time to think, he knew where he stood in the pack now.

He wondered briefly if Stiles went to college. Had gone, since this would be in the middle of a semester. Or maybe, will go.

Stiles is no longer 16, Derek reminded himself, thinking of the scarred face of the other. He was 22 now, it had been almost ten years of letting him be. They had missed all that time, had mended, and grown, and become new people, but stayed themselves, and Derek wondered if the same could be said about Stiles. 

He lazily watched a blonde shelving books in concentration, deep in his thoughts of having long talks with Stiles, questions piling up in his head over and over, curiosity over what he missed filling him.

So much so, in fact, he didn't notice a young man pulling a chair out and sitting with Derek until the guy was sitting down and placing his backpack on the table.

Green eyes stared over, a tingling in his nose picking up the scent of Alpha Ramirez and Stiles. One of Ramirez's goons.

"Go home." The boy offered, splaying his hands.

"Okay." Derek nodded, causing the dark haired boy to smirk a bit. "But only if Stiles comes with me."

The smirk dropped. "Now, that can't happen."

"Oh? And why not... ?" Derek paused, not knowing the kids name.

"Lucas, Lucas Ramirez." Lucas rolled his eyes. "And because he's ours."

"I get that this is a whole 'claiming' thing but I do want to remind you guys he is a person. Just in case you want to stop treating him like an object." Derek huffed, crossing his arms.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "He won't leave anyway. We have him here. Where it's safe." there was an edge in his tone that had Derek feeling off about those words. 

"Why wouldn't he leave? It can't be that safe. There's always danger, it follows us and we know it." Derek tilted his head listening to Lucas's heart for a lie if he were to say one.

"He doesn't. Why would he, that would ruin everything Maria's worked to build." Lucas paused as if registering his words. "I mean..." He scooted the chair back some as if going to leave but Derek's hand shot out to grab Lucas's backpack as the other reached for it.

"What do you mean everything Maria built?" Derek scowled. Things were getting more complicated the longer Derek stayed, like the spool of thread Stiles was ignoring was suddenly the most fascinating thing for Derek to unravel. Pieces of a puzzle were being placed and he was ready to start seeing the whole picture.

Lucas went to yank the backpack. "None of your business." He sneered.

"You're willing to let your pack mate die if your alpha is lying to you?" Derek scowled. "This could be important. I could help."

"Shut up!" Lucas snapped, causing the blonde from earlier to cast them a sharp look. "Aunt Maria would never allow for Stiles to get hurt. She just needs him close and you might place doubt in him and she's spent the past few years erasing it."

Derek let go of the pack and let Lucas stumble out, head swimming with new information, especially how his heart had tripped up a bit when he had nobly proclaimed his Alpha wouldn't hurt her own pack. 

The blonde girl walked over, pushing in Lucas's chair and eyeing Derek. 

"Stiles Stilinski?" She asked, quietly, casting a look around for anyone who might be listening in.

Derek gulped a bit and nodded, watching his girl run a hand throw her platinum locks, and tuck them behind her ear.

"I can tell you some things. I'm Christina, I used to be his friend. The Ramirez family doesn't know but we used to be really close and I've been poking around to be honest because, well..." She looked to the chair under her palms, before pulling it back out and taking a seat. 

Derek waved her on as she fumbled a bit. 

"Can you tell if Lucas is close?" She whispered. 

Derek paused, breathing in deeply to catch the scent of the boy, or hear his heartbeat but was met with nothing of the sort. He shook his head. "He's gone." He whispered back.

Christina nodded. "It was a couple years back, we were in high school and we had become friends slowly after he arrived that first month. He was always so jittery, and it took forever for him to actually decide to be my friend. But that's not the point. He was always strangely involved with the Ramirez family, and then I found out from Beth that he was staying with them and so I thought they might be related so I looked it up and asked around and turns out Lucas trashed their house, and his Aunt offered for Stiles and his dad to stay over." Christina paused, to breathe before nodding as if telling herself to continue.

"Senior year he dropped off the map for a couple weeks, and came back acting different. I don't know what it was, but he was just, different. We hung out but it wasn't the same. I asked him to help me with college applications and he did but when I asked him, he just said it was better if he stayed here. Now, he had been singing a different song a couple weeks ago before he left, he was thinking of Stanford or Harvard or somewhere far, to live his days in excitement and not let them pass him. This was weird to me, and slowly he stopped talking to me and hung out with the Ramirez's more.

"And then when we graduated, I went off to college and when I came back, Stiles had never left. He was living like a king here, with no job and having the Ramirez's falling over themselves to please him without him even noticing." Christina shook her head here. "He hadn't been informed about issues in the town, and he was secluded, he new world news but it was like he didn't want this world touching him. Or maybe the Ramirez's didn't? His dad may be the sheriff but for some reason he was helping them. Brainwashing Stiles more like."

Derek sucked in a breathe. "No kidding. Thank you so much," He breathed. "You may have just saved both of us. I need you to tell me all the recent events, please, anything that's been happening, I need to wake him up. Here's my number, get in contact with me when you have everything together. Please. Please." He scrambled for a pen in his pocket and she held out her hand, palm up. He wrote it hastily before nodding to her. "I have to go now, but please."

She nodded, as if she understood the urgency behind his words (and maybe she did if she had been keeping this close of tabs on her ex-friend) and he left in a hurry, taking his phone out to call Scott and tell him.

They had to save Stiles.


	13. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 17 when he got there 18 when he was turned into a werewolf 22 when derek and them came , 5 years

Stiles sat at the park still, though he knew Jax was waiting for him in the car. He may not be a wolf but he might as well be with how hawk like he was. Something about Maria's words rubbed him wrong, and his Alpha had never done that before. This whole situations was messing with his head if he was being honest. 

Sighing deeply, he shook his head. There were cracks forming in his safe haven.

He frowned at that. Safe haven. 

This place was no different from any other, he was sure, the only thing making it special was his pack... Right ?

Stiles stomach turned as he thought about the past years.

Hardly any tv, with kids shows always playing for Ben and the girls, limited internet access, as they lived in the forest where there was bad signal, and they had convinced him not to go to college.

A part of Stiles scoffed at that last one. They didn't convince hin not to go, they simply didn't encourage him to.

The other part of Stiles that was used to fighting things out kicked up a protest. These were important people to him, they knew what they said would affect him. They wouldn't have just not been excited, they were pushing him lightly into making him feel like he couldn't be without them, without their support. 

He was being lied to. Alexis had went to college, a four year university. She hardly called home and seeing the hurt in Maria had solidified him not going.

He was an idiot. He'd seen this happen to Derek, to Scott, even to Lydia. He couldn't believe, after everything he'd been through, he'd blindly trust these people.

Wolves in sheeps clothing, if nothing else.

His trouble free life. Wasn't that odd? No one had a trouble free life. No one. And definitely not Stiles. Disaster followed him, he knew it, he's known it since his mother died. Trouble free was not a thing for anyone, and he felt like an idiot for not realizing it earlier.

Scott's words were hitting him harder than before, ringing in his chest. He was tucked away, hidden from real life. He hadn't heard of anyone dying, getting sick, he hadn't heard of car accidents or trauma's. If there was good news he'd hear it days later, so he couldn't attend, be it weddings or baby showers, so he couldn't understand what was actually happening in town.

Stiles doubted Derek was the one snapping him out of this well constructed illusion, Scott had done a good enough job on his own. Because Scott knows him better than anyone, he thought softly.

Scott who used to be his best friend, his teammate, his alpha, his brother. Scott who was reaching out a hand to reconnect, to pull Stiles out of the haze he's been in for the past couple years.

It was Scott who was here, right now. Scott wasn't letting him down. He was letting Scott down. And letting Scott down had been ingrained in him since childhood that it wasn't something he did. Ever.

He hadn't heard from Christina in forever, hadn't talked to anyone outside of the Ramirez pack in... In months, years maybe. And he never thought anything about it, ever.

They were providing for him, making him soft. He was the frog in the pan of water that was slowly heating up. 

He had to get out of this. He had made his decision.

"Are you coming, Stiles?" Jax asked, voice friendly and slightly threatening. It left a cold pit in Stiles stomach.

This wasn't going to end well.


	14. Part 5

Scott looked up as Derek came in, frantically tapping on the tablet he had. 

"Scott, we have a problem!" He stated, looking up and sitting in the available spot next to him, where Allison had just stood from to go to the bathroom.

It was alarming to see Derek in the hotel room, as the drive here was sort of long (thanks to Maria only allowing Derek to stay and giving the boot to the rest of the McCall Pack. The lady was obviously the devil.)

Scott blinked, before his eyes narrowed. "We do? With what?" 

"Stiles. There's something going on that we're missing. I ran into this girl at the library and she told me about how Stiles is being coddled by the Ramirez pack. She knows theres something wrong, Scott. Scott, Stiles is in danger." Derek rushed, trying to get Scott to be on the same page as him, jittering next to his alpha.

The idea of danger, of Stiles, the brave boy who held him up in water , who didn't let him drown, the one that constantly saved their asses when they needed it... It made him feel scared, like another precious person would be ripped away, like his family, and it'd be his fault because he had a chance to save him and he didn't.

Derek had finally sorted himself out with that, he wasn't sure he was ready to be wrecked again. Not when he had all of these resources, all of these options and people to go to.

"I just saw Stiles, he's fine, Derek. What are you talking about?" Scott frowned, uneasy with his beta's panic. 

"Scott, you know Stiles can't see whats going on, but we can. Maria Ramirez is keeping Stiles prisoner without Stiles even noticing. He's running her game, okay? Stiles is hardly seen in public, he doesn't know whats going on in the town, but they keep him happy so he stays blind to the facts. Maria wants us gone because she knows we can snap him out of this." Derek scowled at the end.

Scott blinked before it clicked into place. "Stiles is in danger. What are they using him for, do you think?" 

"I don't know, but it must be something bad, they want him to be fully alligned with them. He'd never think of leaving them, he didn't even bother with college! The girl I talked to, she's sending me information. She can't take it to the police yet, I think the Sheriff is involved some how." Derek spilled.

"Stiles is a human, why would they need him? You alert me at once when you get the information... For now, I'll call Kira and tell her to get the rest of the pack ready for us." Scott looked to Derek, resting a hand on Derek's shoulder. 

Derek's pounding heart was the only thing either of them could hear in this silence, and the sharp smell of panic. Made Scott hold a bit tighter, to assure his second.

Derek calmed a little, heart slowing and Scott clapped his shoulder twice, gave it another squeeze and drew away.

"They won't do anything to him, if he's blind to it. We can bring him back, and we will, but we need to prepare for this. It could mean war between our two packs." Scott was firm in his words, settling Derek some. 

"War?" Isaac asked as he came in, hotel key card slipping into his pocket. "For Stiles?"

"I'm trying to think of an ulterior motive, but all he really has backing him up is that he can make a handful of mountain ash last around an entire building, he's amazing at research and he can function on thirty minutes of sleep." Lydia said, stepping around him and shooting him a glare while shoving Isaac's shoulder a bit.

Isaac leered down at her, taking her hand in his.

She rolled her eyes, but let him. "Well, and he is good on his feet, smart, loyal almost to a fault-" she paused, a wave of her hand, as if to dismiss her next few words "-or at least he was." 

Derek huffed as if offended at that, before swallowing. "Did you notice anything different about him? Anything off?" He looked to Scott.

Scott pressed his lips together, hearing the tap in the bathroom squeak off, trying to concentrate on Stiles and not on Allison drying her hands and putting her engagement ring back on.

"His scent was, I guess, watered down? I couldn't really smell it, I just figured it was Maria having her pack douse him in their scent as a way of showing claim." Scott looked to Derek in askance.

"She probably did, she's bitchy enough to." Lydia snorted, kicking her heels off. "Oh god, I don't know if I can pull off the Kim Kardashian wearing heels when she was pregnant thing. My feet have been swelling up and I'm almost afraid I'm gonna get sausage fingers." She pulled a face.

Isaac made a pleased noise, smiling a bit. As big of an asshole as he was, he was pretty excited for the baby. It was a well known secret in the McCall Pack that Isaac loved kids, and that was saying something because he worked at a daycare, he knows they are Satan's seed.

Maybe its because kids can be as big of an asshole as he can be sometimes. Especially his future child. Probably.

"At any rate, Isaac, watch Lydia, I don't want them grabbing her in case something goes south. Derek, you come to me immediatly with everything that girl gathers, I'll be making a call home. Maybe go swing by the Ramirez home and see if you can assess how much they think we know." Scott said as he slid his phone from his pocket and stood, walking out and towards the balcony. 

If he tried to call in the room, it'd be chaos. For some reason, they all think whatever they have to say is more important and they shout over him and its just messy. He has learned his lesson about that plenty. Didn't matter if it was over what was for dinner or how to solve a supernatural problem.

Scott dialed Kira's number and listened to it ring twice before her bright "Hello!" came from the tiny speaker on his phone.

Like hell they wouldn't fight tooth and nail to get Stiles back. The Ramirez pack had another thing coming if they thought the McCalls would just be rolling over.

"Hey Kira, it's Scott, listen, we're having some trouble with the local pack, and it could go south any minute."

"Seriously? Lemme get Malia, hold up."


	15. Part 5

Stiles swallowed thickly as he walked into the house that seemed less welcoming now then it ever has before. The slightly ominous presence of Jax behind him didn't soothe any nerves at all. 

He knew he was probably reeking of panic and anger and maybe a bit of fear, but he couldn't care, not when he was focused on keeping his heart rate steady. It was a neat thing Peter had taught him after he had gotten kidnapped by some crazy hunters. 

Now, he'd rather take the hunters than the Ramirezes. At least those fuckers had been honest from the get go. Part if Stiles felt dumb for never noticing, but his dad was with him. His dad was the sheriff, he had moved towns for Stiles, he would have told Stiles not to trust these people if something was askew.

His dad had trusted them, he had trusted them and now he was going to have to find a way to wade out of this mistake. 

What makes it so hard is the conflicted feeling in him telling him he's just finding an excuse to go to Beacon Hills so he can have drama again. The part that says he's sabotaging himself and that this pack is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Stiles swallowed again as he lightly sat in the living room, where some random original disney movie played, Ben's eyes glued to the TV.

Ben was only four, his dark strands of hair curling around his ears and the back of his neck, his outfit so similiar to Stiles own it almost made him laugh. The jeans had a cartoonish lions face sown on the backpocket, and his shirt was just plain blue with a t shirt flannel thrown on top, but it was so Stiles it made his heart hurt.

He couldn't leave Ben here, but he doubted Maria would let him walk out the door with her first born. 

The idea of leaving him here was much worse. 

"Untle Stiles! Wanna play Mario tarts?" Ben grinned, scrambling for the controller box in the cabneit under the TV.

Stiles weakly smiled before clearing his throat a little and smiling more forcefully. "Yeah buddy, I could beat you in a few games before dinner." 

Ben turned to Stiles, weilding a wii controller like a sword, a challenge. "Ah! You wish Untle Stiles, come on lets play! And don't let me win like you alwayd do!" 

Stiles caught the controller as Ben hurled it at him and watched as Ben dragged a baby chair over to reach the game console.

* * *

Jax watched his wife listen to what Stiles was saying in the living room before she tapped around on her phone for a bit and his phone buzzed in response.

He unlocked his phone and looked over her message.

_Maria: He figured it out, those fucking bastards ruined everything, I'm starting a group chat and we'll smooth this out in an orderly way_

Jax nodded to her, sitting down and typing up a response.

_Jax: You could tell they were a pack of bitten wolves, nothing but a lot of second rate nobodies no one wanted. He'll know we're the superior pack, don't worry, a couple ruffled feathers is all he got, he just needs some soothing words and reassurance_

Maria's phone buzzed and the gleam of pride in her eyes as she smirks over his response makes Jax remember why he was so in love with her all over again.

She easily kept typing up something on her phone and Jax waited patiently for her to press send.

A couple minutes later, his phone vibrated with her long paragraph. Of course his wife has already got something up her sleeve.

_Maria: Stiles isn't thinking clearly with his old pack in town, his mixed loyalties are starting to show. Our years of easing him back into society is being ruined by these rugrats trampling all his progress. We all want what is best for him so he's going on lockdown. All pack should return home, except Tom. Tom, you need to keep tabs on where this pack is, we can't have them running around like hooligans for whatever selfish reason they came. Be on alert all of you and get here with the best attitude to reassure Stiles it's safe here_

After a minute or two, Jax and Maria's phone buzzed.

_Val: On my way now, do u need me to pick anything up in case?_

_Tom: will do, make sure to tell Stiles I'll be out late so he doesnt panic about that_

_Maria: maybe some mountain ash, zip ties, and food , will pass the message along Tom_

Jax put his phone away as Maria spammed everyone with telling Val a grocery list and having Brion say he'd be bringing the girls home and Lucas saying he'd run a little late but he'd be there.

"He's trying to convince himself that it's better there because he still feels attachment towards his old life. He just can't see how his old pack was using him, the mental abuse." Jax intoned, voice loud and clear and he and Maria both smiled in satisfaction when they heard Stiles heartbeat stutter a bit.

Putty in their hands.

 

Stiles rubbed his palms on his jeans as he walked towards the front door. Brion had arrived with the girls a little while ago and they were both happily chatting about some tv show all the other girls in their classes were watching. Pretty something, it didn't matter.

After Brion, came Val, with tons of groceries like she was preparing for a nuclear war and not tuesday night spaghetti. And then, there came Lucas, smelling like some girl that he was sure he'd smelled before and-

Stiles could smell a bit of Derek, a small hint of the other tickling his senses. Why would Lucas see Derek? And wasn't it sad that Stiles already had what the older man smelled like rolling around in his head still?

Stiles figured he could think it all over while taking a drive in his jeep.

Imagine his surprise to find he couldn't walk off the porch.

Stomach churning, heart racing, Stiles tried again and again and again with the same result. He was trapped inside the house. 

"What the hell are you doing, Maria?" Stiles asked out loud, knowing she was listening. She had to be, holed up in her office like she was.

"Protecting you from yourself," she answered, voice lulling him to calm in her alpha way. It kinda pissed him off, and he was all for being rebelious at this point. "It's for the best, Stiles."

Ice went through his veins at the words and he jerkily pulled out his phone to call his dad.

His dad could break the line of mountain ash and get him out. His dad could hel- 

Srraight to voicemail.

Millions of things ran through his head and his fingers shook as he ended the call. If Maria laid a finger on his dad... 

The ice turned molten with hatred and rage, his claws digging into the palm of his phoneless hand, his teeth lengthened, and there was no doubt his eyes were flashing blue. The sharp scent of blood, his blood, filled his nose, and he wished it was Maria's so badly it made him shake a bit.

He wanted Scott, with his straight forwardness and familiar smiles. He wanted Derek, with his easy smiles and calm words. He wanted Beacon Hills, his home. His family made from duct tape and the promise of belonging. He wanted that, with Derek, where there were more dirty jokes and expressive eyebrows and he wanted it all so badly the saddness was almost as bad as the anger.

"Stiles, come inside, it's time for dinner." Maria said patiently, kindly, but firmly.

Stiles swallowed, shaking hand pocketing his phone. He did the only thing he could do. He turned his back to the mountain ash ring holding him in and went inside, letting the shift fall as well and the wound to seal.

"Good boy. It's for the best, you'll realize it."


	16. Part 5

Stiles stiffened in the chair they had tied him to as a familiar heart beat approached. They had tied him down awhile ago, his butt was numb and his back in his lower neck area was getting a pinching pain.

The heartbeat was what Stiles was focused on at the moment though. He'd heard it so often recently that it was almost an automatic recognization filled him. It was unmistakeably Derek. Stiles own hammered in response to the realization.

Jenna flicked her eyes over to him, drawn away from the pages of whatever preteen book was in her grasp. "If you hadn't of lunged at Aunt Maria, you wouldn't be tied up. And then you could have greeted who ever is making you so stressed."

Stiles sneered at her. "I will rip her to shreds, you think these will stop me? When I get out of this chair, Jenna, I'm going to hand you your ass ,you stupid little-" He cut himself off as he heard Maria start talking below.

He weakly moved his wolfsbane laced rope bound wrists, before grunting and scooting the chair to the window to look down. Like hell he would ignore this.

* * *

 

Derek got out of his car, storming towards the house in front of him. He had every intention to knock the door down, just to see Stiles, to talk to him, to let the truth show itself. The Ramirez pack should have known the truth couldn't be hidden. Especially not from Stiles, no matter how much they thought they could.

Imagine Derek's surprise when he bounced back before his foot even hit the first porch step.

He stumbled a few steps back, whipping his gaze harshly toward the sound of the front door opening.

A sharp laugh greeted him.

"Oh, Derek, Derek, Derek," Maria said as she stood on the top step of her porch.

He hadn't noticed the first time, but she kind of looked like an evil soccer mom. Her hair was a little past her shoulders, dark locks slightly unkept, and her face just starting to wrinkle.

Her outfit looked like it belonged on a mannequin for JCPenny, which, rolling the idea around some, was probably what she was aiming for or had been her inspiration.

"Mountain Ash?" He asked sardonically. "Where's Stiles? You can't lock him in there, like a prisoner. I know what your doing." 

"You do, Derek?" She sounded surprised, mocking.

"I have a good idea. I don't know why you're doing this to him, but I know that you've isolated him and like hell I'm just going to let you! The McCall Pack might not be willing to fight you for him just yet, but I will. I won't let this continue, don't doubt that for a second." Derek started calmly, he did, but this was working him up so badly. 

Stiles Stilinski was supposed to be unharmed, undamaged and with him in Beacon Hills. He wasn't supposed to be scarred and brainwashed. He wasn't supposed to be in Miller County, hating the McCall Pack, trapped in a house. Stiles Stilinski was stronger than that, and he deserved better. Derek knew he could give him better. If he could just do something-anything.

Maria hummed, crossing her arms. "Are you quite done?" Her teasing tone only made his anger flare. He knew he should calm down, and so he conciously willed his blood to stop boiling. "You, dear Derek Hale, may not be a bitten mongrel, but I still doubt you could take on my 13 year old niece. The McCall pack really thought it could waltz in here and shake things up? After the years of effort we all put in? I can assure you Stiles is very valuable to us, and he won't be leaving my side any time soon."

Derek stopped the growl that had slowly been rising from his throat, jerking back a bit and really looking this woman over. She was in it for the long haul, and her words... 

"Whatever you think he can do for you, he can't do it. He's just a--" Derek started.

"He's what I've made him to be." Maria tsked as she lightly perched on a weathered porch chair. "Everything I have done for these past years has been wrecked by you and your stupid Alpha. But it's not unfixable, and there may be hope yet for Stiles. I'd like to say it was a nice visit, but, I'd be lying. Now, either I can call the sheriff and get some people to drag you off this property, or you can get in your car and go willingly without having to spend the next few nights in holding. Your choice." A smile, much like Kate's, was on Maria's face as her sharp green eyes delightedly took in every sour look on Derek's face.

"I will find a way to get him out of here, so help me, even if it means dying. He's not yours, he never was and he never will be." Derek said, the threat in his words evident. "You keep making these threats, but I doubt you could handle us. This pack has fought deadlier enemies than yours ever will." And with with that, Derek looked at the house that hid Stiles from him, before slowly walking backwards towards his car, so his eyes never left Maria.

"I dont make threats." Maria leered as he opened the drivers door. "I make promises." 

Her eyes steadily looked into his, even as the door opened and Lucas poked his head out, as if assessing the situation, a smug smile on his face. 

Derek wanted to physically remove it, but settled for slamming his car door at the moment. 

* * *

 

Stiles was shaking with anger as Derek drove off, and he looked to Jenna with skepticism. 

Was what Maria said true about her? She moved quick, with percision, and she seemed aware of him even when reading. 

If there was anything he could be sure about right now, it was that the Ramirezes had been training without him knowing. And they were possibly really good. Too bad they didn't know they weren't the only one's training secretly.

Their asses were grass when he got out of these ropes. 

"Your only hurting yourself by pulling on those ropes. That wolfsbane is gonna get into your blood faster and you're gonna get sicker than a dog." Jenna chimed as he struggled with trying to get them off. 

He ignored the blisters forming on his skin and her words. The day he rolled over and took it was the day he died. 


	17. Part 6

Stiles felt dizzy, almost dehydrated when he woke up from sleping awkwardly in the chair. 

They'd left him tied up in that room all night, someone coming every three hours to check on him, ask if he had to use the bathroom, needed anything to drink or eat. Real hospitable, he was sure to tell them with as much sarcasm as he could muster while half asleep. 

Now it was eight, he'd gone to the bathroom once the entire time and Lucas had the upper hand the entire time, along with Brion guarding the doorway. He'd refused to eat or drink as that'd mean he'd have a repeat of that and quite honestly, he'd rather not. 

The door opened and Maria swept in, all kind smiles, and soft edges, a loose braid in her hair. She didn't seem evil here, she wasn't broadcasting evil vibes or anything. He realized just how good at acting she was. 

"Good morning, Stiles. I can either take you down for breakfast or leave you up here with your bad attitude." She greeted pleasantly.

"Pass." Stiles rasped. "Why are you doing this?"

"You sound parched, Stiles," Maria smiled, the door behind her opening as Sarah came in, holding a water bottle.

He reluctantly drank from it, knowing if he denied it, she would just choke him with it. He wasn't a fan of waterboarding sadly.

She rolled her eyes at him as she drew away. "Being stubborn won't help you, Stiles."

"Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked again, voice stronger.

Sarah walked out, the smell of annoyance falling off her as she went.

Maria looked to be sizing Stiles up the whole time before nodding to herself, as if coming to a decision.

"Okay, I'll tell you why. And then you're going to do what I say because I'm answering this question." Maria pointed at him, no smile anymore, but a cold hard gleam in her eyes that Stiles recognized from somewhere. Someone.

"We knew about you before you came. When that transfer went through, your dad's, we looked into you. We found out about the darkness around your heart, and we found out about all the bad things going on. The influence of that evil tree, whatever that thing was, put something in you. Well, that's not accurate. It left a void in you that you have yet to access." Maria's words felt clinical. He stared, a little detached as he processed what she said.

She walked to the other chair in the corner, the little table beside her drawing his attention as she set down a rolled cloth that clinked. 

Stiles looked back to her face, then to the rolled cloth, gaze lazily flitting back and forth, watching her face and her hands. "That's not all. What about this Void?" Stiles prompted.

"That Void, the one in you and only you... We checked, by the way. If the other two, Scott and Allison, if they had the void. They didn't, and the darkness they had lessened until they fixed that weird tree stump." Maria's fingers toyed with the string tie on the bundle.

Stiles kept his heartbeat calm.

"I was going to wait it out, wait for you to love us and cherish us and think everything was amazing and then i was going to play on that darkness, say weird things were happening and have our emmisary, our actual one and not your crack pot dad, work to bring out the Void." 

"Why?" Stiles asked. "What's so special about Void me?" He almost let his heartbeat quicken when she acted like she was going to untie the damn thing, but he managed to stay calm as it fell from her fingers harmlessly.

"Void Stiles will help me take over the world. Or at least most of the west coast up until the edge of Texas." Maria grinned. The Ramirez Pack will dominate and I will sit at the top, stronger than ever with more Beta's than I would know what to do with." 

"Will? I'm not letting you do anything. You can talk big all you want but can you really force Void me out?" Stiles asked, hoping it wasn't too obvious he was scared for the answer. 

"You've got me there, Stiles!" She did smile up at him this time, before her eyes went to where her hand was toying with opening the cloth roll. "I can't access Void you without you consenting. And I have nothing but time and tools to get you to. See, I tried the nice way with you. I was patient, loving, kind and what am I rewarded with? You trying to attack me at the dinner table."

She finally pulled the tie, undoing it and laying it out, showing glittering metal and glass bottles filled with things he knew were going to be no good. He didn't bother controlling his heartbeat as it sped and he swallowed. 

"So, do you consent to letting Void Stiles take control, or must we do this the hard way?" Maria asked, head inclined slightly to pick up any answer from him.

"No," he squeezed from clenched teeth, already tensing and fighting off a shift. "Don't do this, don't do this."

"You wanna hear something, Stiles?" Maria's voice had turned a little cold, but filled with humor, all while a litany of no's came from Stiles.

Her fingers landed on a scalpel.

"Your dad is allowing this. Of course I told him some bull shit over you needing time to recover from all the shock you've been through, and that the outside world may overwhelm you, but he still went along. The man just wants you to be okay so badly, he's willing to give up everything to fix you."

Maria's fingertips skirted up the blade, and her eyes slid over her display below her. She seemed pleased when his no's seemed to falter, to listen. She knew he wanted to know why his dad would do this to him.

He sort of realized she was playing him into an emotional response, but the words were like preparation for the actual blade she was picking up.

"He came home last night while you were asleep, and I had to tell him you tried to attack me because everything going on was so triggering to you. He's at the station, keeping a good watch on the McCall pack for me. And he just left you here, didn't even come check for himself. I guess the years spent with us have made him soft, no?Besides, you think we were just focused on you? Of course having the sheriff was a major plus. The Stilinski duo was a great plus for us, truly." 

She sounded amused by it, and he knew she wasn't lying. It made his stomach turn, and he couldn't ignore that, despite knowing it wasn't his dad's fault, he still felt betrayed by him.

His dad didn't even check, but why would he? They've been with these people for years, living in such close quarters, it couldn't have occurred to him that they were lying. That something else was going on. Stiles had trusted them, why wouldn't his dad?

"He didn't lay the mountain ash." Stiles managed. "You couldn't get him to lay the mountain ash."

"I didn't ask him. Jax, my husband, may not have the spark, but he did get a very large supply to make up for it. Why waste time and resources for something as simple as trapping his own son? The irony wouldn't be lost on me, but he's actually busy helping me keep you here, well, forever." She was doing something where he couldn't see, her body in the way. He tried inhaling deeply to get a scent, but his blood leaking from where his struggling had rubbed open the skin on his wrist was what he got.

"Do your worst, you bitch, but I'm never going to agree." Stiles sneered, fingers curling and flexing. It didn't help easy the fear and anxiety building in his stomach.

"Everyone has their breaking point, Stiles." Maria simpered at him, cooing as she walked over, something slivering off the tip of the scalpel. "This may hurt."

 

3 hours later, Stiles was covered in blood, slow healing, gaping wounds clustered onto his skin, in his thighs, his calves, his stomach and his sides. Carvings in his chest, and arms. His fingers were mangled, and slowly healing, and the white of his ribs were intersperesed through the yellow muscle and fat and the sea of red that seemed to cover him.

His face was free of any injury, as she hadn't wanted to mess with her favorite mark on him. The scar on his face which "drove him into her arms", or something along those lines. He was distracted by the white hot pain at the time.

Maria was admiring his handiwork, bloodied hand on her cheek like she was actually looking at a work of art. He could smell how excited and exhilarated she was, could smell her sick glee as she'd had her sick fun. 

"You held up beautifully. Amazingly. Oh, I knew you would make me proud, that was wonderful. I'll let you heal up so we can start from the top, yes?" And with a shaky breath released from her smiling lips, she left, shoes making a wet noise as she went. She paused in the doorway. "Just say yes to the Void and we can be done. It's up to you."

Stiles whimpered, watching as she left. The door opened a little wider for Sarah to come in with a wrinkled nose.

"You're an idiot. Just say yes. Drink." She put the bottle to his lips and he swallowed down the liquid shakily. 

She stopped when he drained it, shaking her head at him.

"Never." He whispered. "Never."

Sarah huffed before picking her way out of the room to not get her Vans wet. He watched her until the door closed and the background noise of the house filled the room instead of his screams.

He wetly coughed before his eyes slid closed and the exhaustion that had been growing in him finally smothered him into the dark.


	18. Part 6

Stiles had gone through the torture only three more times before he figured out what he had to do to start off with. To buy himself sometime. He was dizzy and disoriented but the idea had body slammed him when she walked away to the table.

He cut pack ties. 

Maria set down her latest sharp instrument when he'd found the threads in his chest. The thin lines connecting him to everyone else and everyone to him were bright and soft.

He clutched them, mentally and started to rip them, one by one until he grabbed the strongest one and pulled so hard he lost his breath physically. And it felt like a punch in the stomach to suddenly have it gone. He felt weak, there was no one to lean on for strength and he felt... Alone.

Alone in a way he hadn't for awhile. 

Maria gasped, jerking into the small table and her knee had bashed the chair, causing it to squeal against the hardwood floor. Stiles felt a sickening satisfaction and he'd grinned, teeth covered in blood. 

"What did you do?" She asked, words hollow, but filled with a cold rage. "You idiot, you complete moron! What now, Stiles? You're an omega now, congradulations! You're stuck in an Alpha's den, who can just go remake the pack bonds. God damn it, Stiles!" Maria slammed her fist into onto the table , smashing the table in half. 

All her tools clanged to the ground, glass breaking and wood splintering. He prided himself on not flinching, letting the scent of her anger cause a tight happiness in his chest.

She whipped around to face him, taking quick steps to grip his neck tightly. "You think you're so clever, but you're not. And now you're going to pay for this time wasting." She growled, eyes bleeding red.

"What's the worst you can do that you haven't already? Pathetic is what you are, don't have any real power, have to take it from someone younger, more skilled than you ever will be." A harsh coldness was creeping into his words, and he felt detached from this whole thing. Like he was watching from the sidelines instead of being in the passenger seat of this car crash. He was thankful her grip didn't tighten, or else they wouldn't have gotten out at all.

Maria's claws pierced into his neck, but he ignored the pearls of pain to continue on. "Poor Maria, just trying to prove herself to the world, singing the same song nearly ever villian does. When in reality, we both know you're just some washed up old woman that refuses to see she's past her prime." 

Maria snarled, shoving his face as she went to stand up right. His head snapped back a little and he grunted before huffing a laugh at her retreating form. It got a bit louder when she scrubbed dirty fingers through her hair and locked them together behind her head. 

She spun around, hands lower. The look of anger on her face just got worse, before twisting into something evil.

"You want to know what I can do to you, Stiles? I can take away your entire world. I'll tell your father you said hello. And goodbye." And with that, she started to storm out of the room. "I'll be back in two hours with our emissary to remake those pack bonds for when you decide to stop acting a fool. You aren't _going_ anywhere, Stiles, you'll realize this soon. As punishment for the disgusting misbehavior you've exbihited, you'll stay in this room until you are ready to apologize and make amends." 

Her words were almost some sick joke, too motherly at the end for her to have just threatened to-

Shock filled Stiles chest already, but a true fear struck into him as he realized where she was going.

 His father was all he had, his father was the last of his humanity, was his anchor. His father was going to die because he trusted the Ramirez family much too easily. And now, his father was going to die.

* * *

Maria swerved a bit as she drove, the vitriol of Stiles words still ringing in his ears. The little cunt had the nerve to speak to her that way. After everything she has done for him, time wasted and energy spent. 

She had acted like the perfect Alpha, the perfect den mother and what did she get in return from this ungrateful boy? 

She heard the metal bending in the steering wheel and reigned it in, carefully starting to drive and take her cell phone out to call Tom.

When your target tries to run, leave no ground to run to. 

Stiles would give in within the next week or so. She was surprised he'd even managed these last two days. But, that might have been because she severely underestimated just how hellish Beacon Hills had treated him. 

She knew about the scars, sure, but to actually watch him not react as she split his skin to reveal red... It was more than she ever dreamed of. Her beta, her creation, so strong, so resilient. His true self would come out any day now, all she had to do was keep taking from him.

Take his freedom, his family, his happiness. Take and take and take and leave him with one option.

Accept Void Stiles.

"Maria?" Tom asked sleepily from the other end of the phone. He was at work, she knew, but he was pulling late hours for Stiles.

"Hey, meet me at Stagecoach Park, by the back trails in an hour, we need to talk about whats going on with Stiles without ears to eavesdrop." She said calmly. 

"Yeah, sure, I'll meet up with you there soon, then,"  Tom sounded tired, and a little scared. Like he feared she might say his son was getting worse from traumatic stress and the pressure all these events were causing Stiles.

Maria hung up and then scrolled to Roderick's name, her actual emissary.

Stiles had no idea what kind of torment she was already planning for the next few days, and she couldn't wait for him to find out.


	19. Part 6

It'd been hours since Maria had left. There were people downstairs, but he didn't care enough to listen and find out. Sure he could tell from their heartbeats, but the ringing in his ears was over powering all of it. Like he was hearing from under water.

Stiles felt small, scared and very, very angry. He didn't know what was going on out of these four walls, and he was claustraphobic with the thought. Or maybe it was cabin fever. He wasn't interested in analyzing all of that at the moment.

Not when his father was either dead, being killed, or fixing to be and he couldn't do anything.

He was trapped, he was alone and he had no one that could save him. 

It gave him too much time to think about how this rift could have grown between him and his dad. How it _had_ grown.

Probably when Maria took over most of his time as soon as he got the Bite. She'd stepped up to this new plate in his life that she'd _put there_. 

That she'd orchestrated. 

She took his dad away in so many aspects and juxtaposed herself in. If not herself, she had sent someone else.

Like Lucas, for guy talk. Brion for older, more mature guy talk. Val for something motherly, but not too much. Like an aunt. Like a slightly less caring Melissa, but not. Not at all.

It sat heavy in his stomach, and he swallowed down bile, trying to change his pattern of thought to another topic.

That only lasted for a couple minutes, of course, the deep breathing not clearing his head enough.

Really, it only lead him to wonder how she worked his dad. Even if it had just been him, she had to say some things to Tom as well.

No way his dad would let him sail away like a ship in the night. No way would he let this happen unless it happened with something to help glide it along. Be it smooth words from Maria, or someone elses. 

Maybe she used the girls, calling him Gramps, making it seem like a big happy family. Maybe it was giving him "such a special job" as pack emmisary, doing "important" jobs like setting up the border.

And he saw the peacocking as well, how she "let" Stiles tag along on that. How it showed off how far her territory stretched and how she conducted business. How she had given him facts about the land and how long it'd been in her pack. Subtle in her minstrations, they'd been there all along.

There were so many things, _now_ , that jumped up then when they were happening. God, he couldn't help thinking that over and over. He was tricked, the wool was pulled over his and his fathers eyes. 

But, most of all, he was strapped to a chair in an attic, or whatever this room was, unable to do anything. Couldn't attempt to save his dad. Call or warn him. Get Derek, or Scott to get there first and... And save the day like the were promising him they would since they showed up!

Scott was supposed to be the hero in the storybook, and Derek was (ha) Prince Charming. This isn't how it goes in the books. The bad guy doesn't win like this. Doesn't get this big of a victory.

But this wasn't a book, and this wasn't something that he'd just ride into the sunset in, at the end. No, this was his life, and everyday he woke up, this would be the first thing on his mind. He got his father killed. His reality. He got his father killed. This wasn't going to come together perfectly, wasn't going to magically fix itself even when magic was real. He got his father killed. The facts weren't all going to be made available to him, and he would probably never have all of the information about what happened. He got his father killed.

Scott wasn't the hero, and Derek wasn't Prince Charming here to carry him into the sunset. They were here to wake him up and try to help as best those two could. Even if it was a shitty mate offer. It was a stick to pull him out of the sinking sand that, for some reason, he hadn't grabbed.

Thinking of Scott made him immediatly jump to his sort of mom who'd been there for more of his life than his own mom. To look closer at what he was told.

It had been a punch to the stomach when Scott had said Melissa was dead. It was like a punch to the stomach thinking about it again, even now.

He wondered if they tried to find a new address to send a funeral invite to, or if they were so busy mourning her the thought of him was just a taboo at the time.

He wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know when and why anything wasn't done faster. He wanted to see her grave for himself, to know he wasn't being lied to. Because her being gone was like losing a mom all over again, even if he hadn't seen her recently. And that hurt too, knowing he missed her last few years. Knowing he was at fault for that. It was like getting hit by a car. 

Currently, it was like getting dragged across the pavement, knowing the same fate was meeting his dad, either now or later. If it hasn't already.

And it was brought to his attention, at that moment, that while his dad was here and they talked when they could and he still hassled the old man about food he would sneak, that he had missed so many moments without even realizing it. So many exchanges he'd skipped over because it was convienent to tell someone to pass it along. So many moments lost because he had other things just then, mostly made up by Maria. He'd let it all happen because he was too relaxed. 

The years had softened him. Had eased him into being comfortable. Into being fat and lazy and spoon fed. _Pathetic_ , Stiles sneered to himself, _I'm pathetic and all of my life skills that I need, I learned in Beacon Hills_.

Because Beacon Hills may have tore him apart, but it taught him lessons he could use again and again.

What had Miller County taught him? 

There was no answer right now, but he was sure once this played out, there would be, at the end.

The thought sat heavy in his mind for awhile, his breathing harsh in the silence before leveling out and quieting his thought process for a moment.

But again, his mind started whirring.

He wondered how it was supposed to pan out. What Maria planned on doing. He wanted to call her back and ask and stall like in the movies and TV shows and-and _fill_ these empty holes in this broken up story she was telling him. 

It wasn't a story though. It wasn't eve close, he corrected himself. This was his life and she wasted those years, wasted his opprotunities all for her selfish gain. This wasn't some story book he could close, wasn't some movie he could walk out of, or a tv show he could turn off. 

His dad. His dad, his dad, his dad, his dad, his dad, his dad, his, his, hi-

Couldn't, couldn't of just been Maria's words. Couldn't have just been the girls calling him Gramps. Couldn't have been all this family that accepted him with open arms. Couldn't have been seeing his son safe and seemingly getting better. It couldn't just be those things. There had to be more. Stiles was sure there had to be more, because his dad was the sheriff. 

His dad was strong, and smart, and sure maybe he hadn't believed him about all this at first but who would? His dad was logical, cool minded and level headed.

There had to be more. So much more.

Maybe there was blackmail, Stiles bit his lip, desperate to come up with a reason for why. _Why_?

Maybe it was Jax, he was younger than 56 by 19 years, but he was still old enough and in a place of influence. He was trustworthy with Maria as his wife, and as a new dad, Stiles bet Jax was trying to relate with Tom as best he could.

And Brion, Brion was only younger by 15 years, with those three kids he could easily talk with John abt having trouble maker kids. After the Bite, Tom must have found it comforting to talk to someone older abt what his son was going through. 

Which led him back to Jax, a human in a pack of wolves. An older man who had gone through coming to terms with all these wolves and knowing his own mortality was more obvious than the others. 

Everywhere his father would have turned if he had doubts about these people, were more of these people. All working together to tame the Stilinski's mistrust. 

Maria, or someone else was a constant in his thoughts. Someone else. Because it wasn't just her, it wasn't just Maria doing this. It was all of them. All of them had been involved, had helped, had played their roles just how they were written. It was Lucas and Jax and Brion. It was Val and Sara and Jenna.

And of course, Stiles was sure Maria pitched in on the effort. By God, this was her master piece, her life's work, her Mona Lisa.

With her telling him progress updates on his PTSD, his control. On her telling him how much he's grown since coming here, how he's recovering from the "horror" story that was Beacon Hills. 

He got his father killed. He made him leave Beacon Hills, he brought him to this place and he accepted the spare rooms. He got his father killed. This was his fault utterly and completely.

He was sure this was messing him up more than anything back home ever did. Never did Caitlyn blame him during her death, or anyone afterwards. It was never put on him by anyone but himself, it was never his fault. Ethan and Aiden just the same. No one blamed him for them, no one told him he was at fault. He knew he wasn't, at least for the Psycho Twins.

Caitlyn... Her death had affected him in a different way entirely, he'd had other things to get over, like the fact he was still there even after she'd gone. How he didn't really know her, but he did, he was starting to. Had been. He was over it now, but still. 

Caitlyn wasn't the focus, no matter how much her name was like pressing harshly into a nasty bruise. He knew he deserved some pain for letting this happen, but not over Caitlyn. 

His dad, his dad, his dad. This was on him. On him and Maria. It was what they had done that was going to-to end his dad's life. He got his father killed.

Maria was going to (already?)(planning to?) end his life and make Stiles an orphan. Make Stiles howl with rage and sorrow and the promise of payback.

His dad would have been fine if he'd just gone with her stupid plan and said yes. Three simple letters could have stopped the whole thing from reaching that level.

Like hell he was going to now though, or anytime after what she did, is doing, is going to do. If she thinks he's suddenly going to cooperate...

He will have nothing to lose, afterwards. Nothing. 

No petty threat from her will scare him into submission. No bargain, no promise, nothing will reach him. He will be so far gone, the only thing that will be on his mind is revenge.

Like Peter, Stiles almost laughed. The first villian he'd ever dealt with.

Stuck, trapped, Stiles in his chair, and Peter in his body. Only left to think of the ways to end their enemies life. Only left to find the power in themselves when they have none, to rip the throats out of opponents that had messed with them. Anyone who had wronged them, no matter who they were, would get what they deserved.

Yes, Stiles get's it now, more intimately than he'd like maybe, but that's life.

He understood the need now and if it worked for one psychopath, surely it'd work for a man who had nothing holding him back but some poisoned rope and no pack ties.

Somehow, Maria had gotten his father just as she had gotten Stiles. But he knew something she didn't at this point. 

He knew he wasn't shell shocked or left as a puttering mess over his fathers death like she's expecting. He knew he had what it took and so much more to not only end her life, but to aslo end her dreams, her goals and remind her of all her wasted years as he rippes out her throat.

As soon as he got out.

All he had to do was put his mind to it. These ropes would be gone soon enough, some how, and when they were, the Ramirez Pack would be nothing but a memory for anyone who ever knew them. 


	20. Part 7

Stiles wasn't sure how long he had been up in this stupid room, attic, _whatever_. He had been informed by, not only Maria, but Val, that his father was dead. 

When he'd asked for details, both women had acted like he hadn't said anything and just carried on out of the room. As if he was in the dog house or something, twisting up what was going on.

He knew days had passed, but he didn't care. Thanks to the new omega status, he was weak. He hadn't ate or drank anything since he'd received the news, and he knew he was losing weight and muscle mass being strapped down like this and wallowing.

His plans for revenge were supposed to burn bright when he heard the news, but his appetite had disappeared along with a large portion of his will to live, will to fight. It didn't exactly put out the fire in him, just dimmed the flames a bit.

Hopefully, he would die of starvation or something so he'd be no good to anyone, he thought with some morbid hope. At least this would all be over.

He knew the girls were at school, knew Lucas was at one of his eight a.m. lectures and knew Val and Brion were at work.

(His dad had asked once why he didn't do college in the next town over, like Lucas, and just stay here at the house. He'd asked in passing, like he didn't care either way, but maybe, maybe he did and Stiles missed it.

Stiles had told him that he'd rather stay at home for while and help out around the house because he wanted to sort out his life a bit before jumping into a commitment like that.)

He knew Jax was out with Ben, and would be until later when the sun was higher in the sky. And he knew Maria was making funeral arrangements for his father.

He wouldn't have believed she actually did it until he had to listen to every phone call wishing their condolences. Extending them to him. Asking about what would happen to him and how he was taking it. Asking if there was any way to help.

He knew his father was gone, and he had to listen to his murderer everyday talk about how Miller County had truly lost one of the best people the town had ever seen.

And Maria, the cruel bitch she was, made it her goal to torture him with making a point to inform _anyone_  near by her that she was meeting with the funeral homes and such before she left. To rub it salt to the open wound and make sure he understood that he wasn't leaving the room without a 'yes'.

The empty house wasn't much better a comfort either, though, if he was honest.

It reminded him he was stuck here, sharp nails digging into the metal of the chair and making no difference really. Just the house settling noises and his own ragged inhales and wheezy exhales to keep him company.

So he startled a bit when he heard the front door open down below. It was early enough that no one should be home, but Stiles wasn't too concerned. Maybe one of them was home early, he thought blandly as he let his eyes trace over his puss oozing wrist. Twitched a finger just to make sure he could move it still.

He could barely see his skin under the crusted brown dried onto his hands, and anywhere else there was room on him. Made him seem pale in contrast, underneathe. Paler with the poison in his veins.

The wolfsbane was low grade, causing some kind of reaction that wouldn't kill him, just hurt and restrain him. It seemed to stay in the tissue of his arm muscles, its reach only conquering that. To make sure he couldn't get out of the rope. He wasn't too worried about it filtering out once the ropes were gone. With the way they keep tabs, he bet they were dousing the thin cords and it wore off quickly otherwise.

Footsteps started up the stairs and Stiles heartbeat struggled to remain calm. Failing, but tried. No one had visited him in awhile. Not right when they got home.

The heartbeat was familiar but he couldn't put a face to it. He wondered if it'd been that long since he'd really seen them.

The doorknob turning was making his stomach knot, the hand holding it on the other side had sweat slicked hands, but he was sure they were cold. Just as nervous as him, and that made his insides feel like he'd swallowed glass.

Alexis fucking Ramirez poked her head in to see why the person behind this door was panicking. Why they were in the room at all, being the only person in this house, surprisingly. 

Stiles stared back at her, lips busted and cracked, clothes torn and stiff. Crusted in blood, his own she realized in surprise, and a few pounds lighter surely. Not to mention, the tear tracks on his face and the smell of body odor, wolf, and copper. He looked close to death and she just stood there staring at him for all of thirty seconds before she was going in to the room and touching his face, his thighs,  narrowly avoiding his hands to lay her finger tips on his knuckles before settling on his cheek, covering the old scratch scar she'd grown to dismiss. She briefly wondered if this was how he looked before the deep revults got put under his eye.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she whispered as she went to pry the rope off, hands slipping down to fumble it amd hiss as it pressed into her, grating on the rope burn she was getting from these knots, only showing it hurt with a hiss in pain at the wolfsbane. It wasn't working! "I-I'll get scissors! And water!" She said, panic really setting in for her.

"Table, use those." Stiles whispered. "Then we go together to get water. I need to shower and change. Pack Ben's bag while I do." 

Alexis stood and gagged as she saw the dirty instruments. "Oh god, tell me what-what happened." She looked back as she shakily picked a sharp thin knife, nearly running back to him and being careful not to stab him with her unsteady hands. 

The sudden release of pressure made Stiles wince, the air stinging. He moved his wrist away despite it hurting from the crusted ooze that harshly stuck him to the rope. 

He thought he heard Alexis retch again, but she quickly did the other wrist so he wasn't concerned. The fact that his hands were free was step one. Suddenly that little fire in him began to grow. This was a blessing, this was the Powers That Be sending him a sign. Telling him to raze this psychotic werewolf cult to the ground.

He did the same thing to newly freed wrist, bringing them closer to his face for inspection. They'd gotten infected many times over amd healed and one such was sluggishly being fixed under his own scrutiny. That's also when he started seeing the thin silver scars that weren't fading just yet. He wasn't strong enough to heal that quickly, he supposed.

"Why are you here?" He asked as she pulled his shirt off gently. Or what was left of it.

"I-I found a new pack, back at college. It's different there, I feel closer to them. They're a ragtag bunch, but they love me and want me to join. They said I had to clear things up and say my goodbyes before severing pack ties and joining them. And and then yours were just gone, and I couldn't find it, and so I just took a break to find out why." Alexis rambled. "Severing Pack Ties is a big deal, Stiles. Not something to do when your having a fit, I had to make sure..."

Stiles smirked and nodded, standing on shaky leg after cutting the laced rope on his ankles too.

She watched him, ready to help him head for the door in a moments notice.

"Crazy bitch, Maria is one crazy bitch. It's a lot to explain, but I will. After the shower and new clothes." Stiles waved a hand. "Had to sever them. You'll understand." 

Alexis nodded slowly, before it gained speed as she processed his words, her eyes cast down to the chair. "Ben's bag, lunch. Go, hurry, get in the shower. Do you know when they'll be back? How long we have?" 

"Lucas will be back later than most everyone, the girls wont be here til five, Jax took Ben out, but they're spending a day together and wont be back until five or six as well. Val and Brion are going to have lunch after work , but they'll be back at four. No telling with Maria. What time is it?" Stiles grunted as he made his way down the hall. Limping, but covering a lot of ground.

"It's 11:43. And your dad?" She called as he got to the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the hall closet.

"Maria killed him, he'll never be back." Stiles murmured, knowing she could hear. He closed the bathroom door and started the hot water.

 

Stiles slipped on another shirt to keep warm as he stepped into the cold house. He was dressed and ready to go, his wrists healed and body feeling a little better. He'd feel better after he ate, but he was a bit jumpy with the realization that his prey would soon be coming to him soon. Like getting butterflied in your stomach, he smirked.

His bag only had his soap, two shirts, two pants, two changes of underwear, one jacket and three pairs of socks. He had to pack light, things that no one would really catch if he was really getting out of dodge.

Stiles saw Ben's bag on the tike's bed and scooped it, carrying it to the kitchen where Alexis had macarroni. Provided it was instant and the small serving size cup, but Stiles was grateful nonetheless.

He took it, feeling the heat in his hands and just appreciating it for a second. In the shower, he'd thought of telling Alexis his plan for revenge and decided that she'd either help him or die. He would not be stopped right now, and sure she might not like it, but it was going to happen with or without her.

"Thank you." He said, picking up his fork and starting to dig in, eating the entire cup and then blinking at her when she placed another beside him.

"Tell me everything you know." Stiles demanded, not missing the guilty look she shot the floor when he scanned her face. It seemed she had some time to think over what this was about, then.

"I knew Maria was interested in you. I knew she wanted you for something, but at that time I was so angry at you for leaving your old pack. I was just upset because my parents, they died and that was my whole pack, my whole family, and it angered me to think you would leave yours willingly." Alexis shrugged. "It was childish, but it stopped me from getting involved. And I knew Maria was the reason we were having an omega problem your first two years here. She waited until you were 18, and then she let one go. I didn't find out about that til later, when I was heading for college. There was a reason you never really saw any but they were always a threat, and I didn't question it, because she's my Aunt Maria. I figured there was reason. And at college... Stiles, you don't have a phone I can text you on, you barely check your email... I wasn't risking coming back yet. Aunt Maria would have ruined my college tuition and made me stay here. We both know it." 

Stiles nodded. "There's no real right answer, if you want me to tell you something." He finally said, making her bite her lip. "She like's controlling people. Sure you would've alerted me, but we'd have both been stuck here. What I want to know is how was she causing the omega problem?" 

As he spoke he started gathering up materials from the fridge, and she watched him before continuing in with her explanation.

"She would lure them in, and they'd go crazy trying to prove themselves worthy for the pack. Some of them were freshly turned, weak control, went crazy without help. And I mean crazy, not knowing control amd not having anyone to rely on is rough for omega's." Alexis swallowed. "Though you know that, right? Because of your friend, Scott." He looked to her suddenyl, like a reminder to stay on topic. She winced. "I didn't figure the omega situation out until I confronted her over the phone about it because of all the rumors I was hearing. On the East Coast, Stiles, they spread rumors of this pack." 

Stiles nodded, waving her on. He didn't much care, rumors never helped him. He slathered mayo onto the bread slice and then rolled his eyes at her. She was watching him finish making his sandwich. He hoped it was because she was gathering her thoughts for any useful information.

"Thats it, your turn," Alexis scowled, eyes catching it regardless. "Tell me what the hell is going on."

She rolled her own eyes when he signalled for a cup with no words, filling it with tap water and passing it to him.

Stiles finished pressing it all together, and took a drink. He moaned a bit and she huffed. Time waster, hypocrite.

"She found out some stuff that happened at home, in Beacon Hills. It would really benefit her if I used this thing that happened, and I keep saying no. My old pack is here to come get me, they snapped me out of the fog I've been in." Stiles paused to take a bite, chewing like he'd never esten and practically swallowing the large section whole. "That upset Maria pretty bad, she locked me in the house because of it. And then, when I attacked her, because like hell I was going to just take it, she locked me up in the room."

Stiles drained his cup and gave her the cup back, motioning it to the sink for a refill. Alexis gave him a bitch face, before doing so. "What is that room anyway? Is it the attic or?"

"It's the room before the attic," Alexis shrugged as she filled the cup. "Where we used to put Christmas decorations and stuff."

Stiles took the cup as she offered it back and nodded, accepting the answer.

"Right, so then the torturing began. And then she killed my dad because I severed her pack ties with me. Also, the actual emissary is somewhere in town, I think in the room next to Derek's to spy on him, if my eavesdropping skills are up to date." Stiles rambled, before drinking again.

Alexis blinked a couple times before she swallowed. "You want me to get you and Ben out of here?" She asked, shakily, suddenly daunted by that task.

"If you could drive the getaway car, that'd be nice. I'm going to need you to turn on every electronic in the house, while I hide. They can't hear my heartbeat if everything is blaring and I'll get a good jump on them."

"Hide?" Alexis squeaked, "Not leave?"

"She killed my dad, she stole a large part of my life and these past few weeks have mentally messed me up like I haven't been in years. If you think I'm not getting revenge..." Stiles laughed a bit. "You are mistaken. I've got to agree with the Hale's that making people pay for what they've done is worth it."

"Hales?" asked Alexis. "I've heard rumors about them. Big fire, yeah?" 

"Yeah, now they only have a few Hales left. They came for me. Not the Hale's but the McCall pack, that has Hale's. I've got to meet up with Derek, and have an emissary to witness us agreeing to be mates." Stiles finished his cup, put his dishes in the sink, and trash in the waste bin. He was still hungry, and if was going to work out for hour intervals to build muscle, he'd have to eat again.

"Mates?" Alexis blinked.

"When Maria wouldn't let them onto her territory, Derek, the big goofy dork, challenged her for me to be his mate to return to Beacon Hills." Stiles rolled his eyes. He didn't mind spending time with Derek at the diner, he didn't mind at the motel, and quite frankly, Derek being his mate was going to be the best thing that has ever happened to him, short of Alexis coming home and freeing him.

"Isn't that an invasion, though? He should have talked to you or-or something!" She scowled.

"It is, but it was the right call. Like with people who don't want others to help them when they're choking, stuff like that. You just have to act, despite what the person's saying for their own good." Stiles shrugged. "It might not have been... The right or best choice, but it's Derek. He did the thing that was called for." Stiles looked back at her from where her eyes were glaring in his shoulder.

"What are you going to do with them?" Alexis asked quietly. "This pack."

"Kill them all." Stiles said softly.

"J-Jenna's 13!" Alexis gaped, hands gripping onto the counter, and her body leaning forward either in shock or in challenge.

Stiles crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter. If I leave her alive, she'll resent me. Or worse, she'll idolize me, and become some sort of twisted Maria. Ben is going to grow up in Beacon Hills, with the McCall Pack. When he asks about his mother, I will tell him she didn't want him anymore and have him resent her his entire life. Unless, of course, you want to take him, because you're stable enough to afford putting him through school and all things concerned, like medical bills and such. Clothing, toys, school supplies," Stiles leaned back on the counter.

"Fine, Ben's yours, but I get to visit." She paused tapping her finger nails on the counter. "Sarah is 15." 

"Sarah didn't think twice about the torture. She's gone." Stiles huffed. "Don't try to argue every person. The only people leaving this house alive is me, you, and Ben. The mountain ash ring is open, but they close it once everyone is here. Jax does. That means he's going to get here last, and he has Ben, so you need to take Ben before I tear him to shreds. Ben can mess up the mountain ash ring, just tell him how. Get in the car and wait." He looked to her through narrowed eyes, daring her to make a move like that again.

She seemed to be lost on what to do, before she nodded and rubbed her upper arms. Despite that, she still shivered and he was positive it wasn't from the cold. Murdering her family musn't sit well with her, but Stiles... He simply demanded it happen. He wouldn't rest until they were gone.

"Electronics, get those on. TV, video games, toys that make noise, radios, anything. I need to stretch so I don't cramp up. I haven't moved in awhile, and my muscles need a light work out. You know, before I start with the heavy work out. And then the fighting." Stiles spun his finger, as if to signal she needed to look around the house.

She headed for the play room while he moved towards the living room.


	21. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning in case you dont read the authors note  
> There's death and theres blood (i mean teen wolf has quite a bit of both of these but if they make you uncomfortable this chapter may not be something you want to read) talk of childrens death (the youngest dead is 13-15 in age) and such so this is a heads up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a general warning there's death and people dying in this chapter as young as 13, read at your own risk its not too graphic but just in case

Stiles looked up from wiping crumbs off the front of his shirt to see Brion and Val come into the kitchen and stop dead as they looked at him. 

Like deer in the headlights.

Val realized it first. He looked strong, strong in a way he hadn't been before. Or maybe he had and just hadn't shown them this side of him. There was no love or care in his burning blue eyes. The only thing that, seemingly, he couldn't control. Showed how on edge he really was, winking between dark, dead brown to blazing, unfeeling blue.

But most notably, Stiles seemed cold. Their Stiles wasn't in front of them. This was someone else, someone promising pain, and destruction. Cold, and far away even as he was sitting right there, not 20 feet less.

He took up more space it seemed as well, be it muscle or just how much he ate, they could tell that it wasn't just the hard line of his squared shoulder causing an illusion of it. Or maybe it was his presence. 

Not even that he was bulging with them, just that he was there, and he wouldn't be ignored. A position they'd never seen him in before. One commanding attention and authority.

Everything about him screamed predator, even when he was doing something as simple as wiping the crumbs from his shirt. Though his hand had stilled and fallen in his lap now.

He smiled at them, but there was nothing behind it, not really. It rubbed wrong, chaffing at their senses, it warned of a wealth of danger, of a wolf in sheeps clothing. It didn't feel welcoming, or safe, or familiar. Val suppressed a shiver. From the tilt of his lips to the way his eye brows pulled up slightly, he seemed cold, hard, and unrelenting. 

The smile wasn't a smile, it was a reflection of what was in store for them.

"Stiles." Val finally managed, surprise evident in her tone. Her mouth worked to continue to speak but no words came to her. She looked to her husband, to see what he would do, to see how to act in this situation.

Stiles flicked his eyes away from them to his shirt, inspecting the material for food particles, before looking back at them, sniffing harmlessly. More of a flare of the nostrils, if anything. They weren't worth his attention, the movement said. He wasn't afraid to take his eyes off them, they weren't worth his attention, the crumbs on his shirt were more important.

Brion looked between Stiles and Val, heart skipping a beat or two. The smell of unease permeated the air around them, but Stiles...

He knew using soap to trick the other pack into thinking Stiles was a worthless human would backfire.

No scent came from him, nothing to underlie his expression. Rodrick the Asscake's magnificent idea of course. Like everything that came out of him, considered great at first and later revealed problematic.

He knew Maria had always been too trusting with that emissary, just because Rodrick had helped their dad once.

He also knew his little sister had made a mistake about this boy. A very big one.

"How did you get out of the binds?" His voice sounded quiet and pubescent. He cleared his throat roughly before speaking again. "Why haven't you, I don't know, left?" 

Stiles gave another smile, as if he was amused. It left his eyes even colder, and his face a little tight, but it had its desired effect. Like getting ice water dumped on them during a winter storm. Unpleasant, uncomfortable and chilled to the bone.

The couple stiffened, seeing him draw in a breath to speak.

Brion's hand squeezed gently onto his wife's forearm, to reassure her he was there with her in front of this... This shell of a person. Person was subjective though, with the growing animalistic gleam on Stiles face, in his eyes and the twist of his lips.

"This is gonna be a nice warm up." He greeted before he fell into the shift and roared, lunging across the kitchen counter to take down one of them.

* * *

Stiles placed their bodies in their bedroom, whistling while he toted them from room to room. It wasn't that they were too heavy for one trip, just his terrible skills of balancing those through doorways and stairs, so he was going old school. One at a time.

All that werewolf grace lost once he wasn't fighting, becoming his usual off kilter self. He was sure they would have teased him about "the wasted gift of the bite" by being a klutzy wolf--

Stiles needed to stop thinking about what they'd say or do. He shook himself of the thought of any familiarity between him and these people. It felt like swallowinf needles.

Instead, he wondered how Alexis was, where ever she was. Had hid. The confusing background noise he'd had her set up was messing with his hearing and he couldn't quite place her in a room. Was too much of a hassle to try to pick her out. 

He hoped she wasn't feeling too upset with herself, because, honestly... He would have killed her too if she got in his way. There was nothing she could have done to stop him. He needed this.

She didn't. She also didn't _really_ need to be here until 5:30. She was free to go do whatever until that time, but he figured maybe she wanted to stay, maybe hadn't even thought about leaving. He'd discuss it with her after this next snack and work out break. His back had some kinks from the chair, and he'd have to work them out in a minute.

The little scuffle had brought awarness to what exercises he needed to focus on, and he had to thank those two for helping him catch something like that. It could have been a big problem later.

Well, _thank_ was a relative word, he thought to himself as his hand hovered above the light switch. There was some crusted blood under his finger nails that was satisfying in a way he couldn't describe.

He looked back at the two on the bed, one last time to soak in that he was doing this, was saving himself, and it was about damn time. He was slaying his demons, slaying his prison guards that locked him up unfairly.

Val's neck was at an awkward angle, throat ripped. She'd had a good start, at the beginning, but lost it some when she heard a thump from upstairs.

Alexis didn't seem to realize she wasn't completely drowned out with the background noise. Sure, the extra noises obscured her, but it didn't help obvious noises like that.

She'd gotten distracted, jerking a bit to look for the source and Stiles had only needed those few seconds to win. He'd did it quick, but a part of him wished he'd taken his time. 

Brion went down too easily, after watching Stiles kill his wife. He'd just flung himself, wildly, thrashing, trying to do something, but Stiles was just too quick. Even if his marriage had been set up, he'd loved her as much as someone like him could, and she'd felt the same.

He'd ripped the heart out of the wolf, literally and figuratively, and then he'd stepped over the light spatter of blood and started moving them out of the way. So as not to scare his next guests.

Stiles was blocking out the fact that he'd murdered these people he felt he'd been through _everything_ with, with the fact that his dad wasn't around anymore. The man who had _actually_ been through everything with him. It certainly helped, he wasn't going to lie.

Avenging his father felt good in a way he'd be hard pressed to admit to anyone later. 

He'd say, "I had to kill them, it was either me or them," to anyone who asked. He'd say, "I didn't like it for a second, they forced my hand on it, it was just instinct." He'd say, "My dad is dead because of them. They had it coming."

His dad who he'd missed these past few days. Tied up, in a chair, in the "room before the attic" with no way to reach those human ears other than his shouts which he was sure didn't make it that far. Not with being stuck in that attic, the "third floor" on top of Alex's old room and Maria and Jax bedroom. Not with his dads room being on the opposite end of the second floor, the solid wood walls that muffled werewolf hearing a bit. Simulate privacy just a little in this sturdy house.

Stiles hadn't asked for anything they did to him, and it was only fair he return the favor for them. His father hadn't asked for it either. He was returning that favor as well. 

They'd arrived so close and tight knit, but this pack had wormed its way under their defenses and drawn them apart. Slipped into the wide cracks Stiles was leaving. They didn't even really _have_ to try.

He hit the lights, turned away and closed Brion and Val's bedroom door. He exited the dark room still whistling.

The girls would be home any minute now and he needed to make sure he was ready for whatever happened.

He couldn't wait to break their fucking necks.

* * *

Derek knew he was being watched. He didn't know who by, but he knew it was someone at the motel. 

He always seemed to not catch whoever it was, and he'd reported as much to Scott. Not that that would really do anything, at least not after what happened a couple days ago.

Scott's only response for the past couple days since the Sheriff's body turned up, Stiles' dad's body turned up, had been "Stay low." Again and again, to everything Derek said or suggested.

Scott had started hesitating after the body. Worried it was a sign for them, saying "we aren't afraid to kill Stiles, in a 'if we can't have nobody can' and you can attest to it with us killing Tom Stilinski." He was sure it was Derek's provoking them at their house that had made them do it, but assured Derek it wasn't his fault because these wolves were psychotic and blood thirsty.

Derek had appreciated the assurance more than he would like to admit. He needed it, because otherwise he'd have always felt guilt over it. And he'd had so much guilt in his lifetime that it was almost like a programmed response to want to feel it. He'd been working on it for years and years, but Derek knew he still had insecurities about those type of things as well as Scott did.

Lydia said that may be why they did, but it might not be as well. That there could be other things they don't know, and she wouldn't know without all the information.  Too bad Lydia's maybe was an "exactly" to Scott.

He wondered how long he had to "stay low" exactly and prayed it wasn't long. Not when he'd started reconnecting to Stiles all over again. Not when he'd been on an emotional roller coaster since he first saw Stiles scarred, angry, beautiful face again. Not when they'd had familiar banter over breakfast and he'd made Stiles blush and he'd heard the others heart speed up when Derek looked at him. Not when his heart did something weird every time he even called the boy to mind.

Just knowing Stiles was locked in that house, having to just hear second hand his father was dead over and over... Knowing Stiles was trapped so close but there was nothing he could do until back up got there... It was fucking torture in a different brand.

Nothing like using people you cared for to wreck you, Derek thought to himself as he flipped through the TV channels again and again. 

Especially when all you could do was wait for something to happen and pray it was in their favor. All he knew was he wouldn't be leaving Miller County without Stiles next to his side, ready to go back to Beacon Hills.

* * *

Stiles finished dragging the 15 year old girls dead weight to her parents room, careless in how he handled her. He had to go get Jenna's body now, and he didn't want to dwaddle on the task.

Maria _had_ been training them, she hadn't been lying to Derek about that. The only problem for them was Stiles had more expeirence than them to actually be a challenge. He'd snapped their necks, throats ripped out to ensure they were really dead. 

Rule #2: Double tap, he thought to himself, the movie reference making him snort a little as he walked towards the dining room.

Seriously, though, if the 13 year old hadn't gone for the obvious attack of his torso there at the end, he might have actually got hurt. But she had, and he had broke her nose with his elbow because of it, enough of a distraction to end her short life.

And oh, the way Sara went to howl, he'd gotten excited. Her head tipped back to start and he just took that moment to drag his claws across her throat and then twist her neck off her spine like picking a stubborn apple from a tree.

Alexis had been playing candycrush on her phone, but she'd started retching when she'd heard the loud crack past the background noise. Maybe he'd been a bit rough with the girls, but when he was their age, he knew the difference between right and wrong. He knew they were too twisted by Maria's sticky ideals.

In any case, it seemed she figured out that the home-made white noise machine didn't cover up everything. It sucked she had to find out like that, he thought sympathetically as he started to pick Jenna up.

She had been vommitting for the past five minutes, and he wondered if it was a punishment to herself she stayed in the house while he did this. He had asked her about it right before the girls had got home, and she'd just shrugged. Maybe she needed to feel like she was responsible, to punish herself. He had just reminded her that she had a new pack waiting to help her when she got back home as he walked out of her room. Because of course she'd hid in her old room.

Stiles wondered a bit when he became so clincial with it, before deciding he didn't care just as long as the Ramirez Pack was shown no mercy. _No_ mercy.

Stiles breathed out sharply, listening past Wreck it Ralph playing in the living room, past the radio playing a Dej Loaf song, past the children lullabies coming from the CD player in Ben and his room, past the music boxes playing in Jenna and Sara's room and all the other things.

He listened to Alexis empty the contents of her stomach shakily again. Listened to her muffling sobs into the toliet seat. She wasn't stepping in, but she wanted to. Only, she knew they deserved this, so she didn't. She was good at heart, like Scott, only she wasn't as strong willed. She knew she wasn't strong enough to stand. And the only reason she wasn't was because of that attitude.

She limited herself, but a girl like herself would. Sure, she'd take passionately over social issues, over her view and how the youth of today belonged to their generation, but this was a personal issue that felt bigger than her. He recognized it, categorized it and moved on.

Stiles wished he could have been more like Scott and Alex, but... But he'd do what's necessary in the end so people like Alexis could still be around, doing the right things and not what needed to be. So they could lead people from out of their bad situations with a clear mind.

He hummed to himself before continuing on his way to drag Jenna across the floor towards the stairs on the other side of the house.

 

Which kind of made it his luck that as he was toting the sluggishly bleeding corpse to where the rest of her family was, Lucas came in. 

He shouldn't have taken that moment, Stiles knew he should have just kept going and thought about Alexis later and the emotional scarring he was putting her through. Waited for a better time, when he could've talked to her about it.

Lucas dropped his bag off his shoulder, staring at his sister's dead body, dirty blonde hair chopped chin length stained dark, as well as her admittedly nice outfit of a floral shirt, light jacket and jeans.

His mouth worked, reminding Stiles of his mom, his eyes showing shock and a growing anger before his face snarled into the shift and he came forward in lightning speed.

The blue green on his eyes, like his mom's and like Jenna's, disappeared in a glowing gold and his features melted into the beasts. He let his wolf take over, let the true predator out and attacked like an animal backed into a corner.

Stiles dropped the weight of the dead girl to the ground, moving out of the way for a dangerous swipe of claws, a flurry of sporadic attacks coming at him. Just like his dad. 

Lucas had obviously taken after both his parents in many aspects, and knowing that made Stiles seethe with anger. Because if his parents had this much influemce, Maria had even more, being his Alpha and his Aunt. No doubt, he'd helped her majorly in this whole twisted affair.

Stiles surged forward in the wide space Lucas left unprotected, clawed hand coming up to grasp the lower half of his jaw and slam the younger man into the wall, hard enough for a dent to appear.

Lucas, in turn, landed a knee into Stiles right thigh, causing Stiles to snarl and throw the boy to the ground. The bone seemed fragile to balance on now, and he'd have to wait awhile before it repaired itself.

Lucas tried to scramble up, tried to get back up while Stiles assessed his injury. Too bad Stiles had already won. He stepped onto the back of Lucas's leg with his good one, pushing all his weight into it, trapping Lucas on the floor in a kneel, and snapping his neck in one smooth twist. Double tap, slash the throat.

Stiles got to watch as blue green eyes faded for the third time that day. It filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

"Damn, this is a lot of manual labor." Stiles grumbled as he made sure to listen for Lucas's heartbeat. There was none.

He'd hate to of broken that neck and slashed the throat but not killed the kid.

Lord knows, he's sick of people who are supposed to be dead coming back because they weren't all the way dead. It was annoying.

He grabbed both the bodies up and started towards the room. Might as well take two at a time to save time. He had to set up for the grand finale now anyway.

 

Stiles sighed as he listened to Wreck it Ralph loop for the seventh or eigth or ninth time. It was 6:37, and Jax was late with Ben. Leave it to everybody in this house to throw off their schedules he _kept track of_ the day it really mattered.

With Lucas coming home early, he had thought maybe someone else would be too, but no. They were late. Maria was who had him really worried. He'd like to get to her last but if she showed up before Jax and Ben, he was gonna be thrown and have to act then. 

And that'd leave the possibility of Ben seeing him kill his mom, which would not be good at all for anyone. Lord knows he didn't want to kill an almost four year old, and he didn't want the kid to resent him for the rest of his life. It'd be a loose end and he'd have to deal with it and he didn't want to have that happen. 

He didn't want to do anymore push ups, or sit ups, didn't want to work out his inner core or his glamour muscles. Didn't want to stretch, or relax. He wanted this over with.

He'd already gotten ready for his cherry on top finale, and he'd done a walk through of the house to make sure the bottles of perfume, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide and nail polish remover were all ready to be used.

It just itched at him that this wasn't _happening_ already. Jax should've been here with Ben, so he could've get Alexis out of here. He didn't like all these variables of what could happen. He hadn't had control in a long time and now that he had it, he didn't want to lose it so quickly.

Waiting was all he had done, he felt restless. He felt adernaline rushing through his veins. He wanted this. He wanted this more than he wanted to leave this town. He kind of felt like he was trying to convince himself of that fact with how often he was repeating it to himself, but he shoved that back to look over later when he had time not to worry about living to see the next day.

They wouldn't ruin this for him. Not this time. Jax and Maria would follow the plan he had because it was his time to show them he could be just as evil. That, when pushed, he could be just as twisted as them, he could play the game and he would win.

At 6:43 he heard gravel crunching. 

At 6:46 he heard them stop and park, heard them start gathering stuff up in the car. Three heartbeats. 

Stiles meandered to the room Alexis was in. Her old one, he almost rolled his eyes, correcting himself.

"It seems they all came together. Maria, Jax and Ben are here." Stiles said as he came in to the room without knocking. "You greet them, you say you want to look at Ben and see how big he's gotten, you bolt to your car, telling them you want to take him for ice cream or something and then you go get some ice cream. You wait for me there and then I'll get us where we need to go." He pointed finger guns at her, waiting for a reaction, a smile on his face. "I'll bring the bags, so don't worry about those, now they're here, Alexis, please."

Alexis drew her gaze up from candycrush looking a little pale, but otherwise, fine. She nodded and paused beside Stiles to hug him.

He paused for a second, her arms around him and that voice that had spoken earlier about convincing himself piping up to alert him to the emotions behind the satisfaction he was feeling now. He slowly lowered his arms around her, hugging her back and squeezing her once so tightly he was sure her ribs creaked. "It'll be okay, you can do it. I believe in you." And if the words weren't just for her, who cared? It made her ease into him a little more.

"Which ice cream place?" Alexis whispered, the sentence almost coming out as one word into his shoulder.

"The one by that nasty coffee shop." Stiles offered, watching her nose scrunch as she remembered that hell hole of a coffee shop. Being above her made it look odd and alien-ish and he held in a snort over it. He was just trying to distract himself that his hands were starting to shake. He needed to bury himself back in the revenge, in the feel of blood and of knives dragging deeply onto his skin. Needed to bury himself in remembering his dad was cooling in a morgue somewhere, waiting to be put in the ground because of these people. Because it was his fault and he had to fix it.

With that she drew away, letting him hold her at arms length before releasing her completely. She nodded at him, looking like a soldier heading out to battle, with a smile that seemed watery, but slowly seemed to cheer up as she headed out the door towards her Aunt. Girl had skill, even if she smelled a lot like vomit and fear and nostalgia. She'd get it done, no doubt.

"Aunt Maria!" She greeted loudly as she went down the stairs two at a time. Stiles hung back, steeling his nerves in resolve before creeping silently towards the stairs, waiting at the top for Alex to do what needed to be done.

Her voice barely carried up to him over the electronic chaos they'd created and Stiles knew they couldn't hear his heartbeat, but was sure they weren't worried about it.

Stiles focused on the four of them past all the noise, paying the utmost attention. He needed to if he was going to have this pan out all that well. If it was going to go the way he organized it to.

"Alexis!" Maria gaped, in obvious shock. Stiles could practically see her slightly rounding dark eyes and slight creases in her forehead from how high her eyebrows were shooting up. "What are you doing back from the east coast?" 

"Ah, am I not welcome?" Alexis joked, voicing teasing.

"Of course you are, don't be silly!" Maria laughed. The noise made Stiles want to rip the walls down around him. He refrained.

"Who that, Mama?" Ben stage whispered.

"Is that Ben?" Alexis gasped. "Oh my god, he's so big! He doesn't remember his big sister Alexis!" 

There was a long pause and Stiles bet Ben was staring at her in nothing but awkward, tense, glaring. Just like Stiles had taught him. He pressed his lips together to not laugh loudly at what it must look like, how Jax and Maria must have been staring at Ben, and how Alexis would be unsure of what was going on.

"Alex! Mama, it's Alex!" Ben giggled happily, breaking the silence.

Maria and Jax's laugh was full of warmth and love. And that pissed Stiles off even more, all over again. The laugh that had been bubbling up in his chest died and was replaced with the feling of breathing in around sharp edges in lungs. It made the cold rage sitting in his chest bloom, and he tried to keep the shift at bay.

He was still here, he had time, the thoughts swirled in Stiles chest, anchoring him. He held tightly to the words, refraining from marching in there and raising hell. Ben wasn't gone yet.

Because of course, Stiles anchor was breathing, was his own beating heart. It had beeb that he wasn't alone, but that had crashed and he'd built himself anew, tied up without a say in anything in his life.

"Can Alex take Ben to get some ice cream?" Alexis asked imploringly (and in third person which, Stiles doesn't normally judge, but he was right now. Random third person talk had always rubbed him a bit wrong.) and Ben's added " _P_ _eas_!" really sold it.

"Fine, back before dark!" Maria caved after a moment of contemplating, calling the last part, meaning Alexis and Ben had run out. Good.

Stiles waited for the engine to turn on in her cheap car, which took a moment because she had to get his carseat from another car before helping him buckle in. With that, they headed off towards the ice cream place he'd specified.

"Val! Brion!" Maria called, voice loud and inquiring as she walked further into the house, amd away from the front door.

"Girls!" Jax pitched in as Maria led the way to the den, probably hoping to catch them all watching Wreck it Ralph. 

He followed behind them after a couple seconds, taking the stairs down quietly, tensing his muscles for a fight, and squaring his shoulders to keep himself in line. Away from just playing with his food and giving them time to counter.

If he didn't, they'd attack and he'd wipe the floor with either of them and just waste time. Lord knows he doesn't need to waste anymore of his time. Not after all these years. The two human ones, the two as a fresh werewolf learning control and the ways of the Ramirez Pack, the three spent as a stay at home after high school laze, not working, but running useless errands for Maria. So many wasted years, so much wasted time, he didn't want to be here another minute.

Though, he did plan on having fun while he was. He wasn't done yet, and he was going to finish this evil off with as much satisfaction as he could. He earned this.


	22. Part 7

Maria was running, her legs were pumping and her heart was racing. 

Jax, Jax, Jax was gone, was dead, and-

Stiles had done it in front of her, had ended his life right there. Just like he'd done to every other member of her pack. This wasn't what she planned, wasn't what she had intended or wanted. 

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Stiles was supposed to say yes. Was supposed to take her side. 

She looked at the offered rooms in this section of the house and blinked at the cabniets right next to her. It should be empty. Stiles wouldn't be able to hear her, not with all this background he'd created. He'd done all of this in just the space of a few hours, he was everything she wanted. It didn't make sense it didn't go her way. He should have felt trapped, he should have felt alone and he should have begged for her to let him back in the pack.

A shiver tore through her as she crawled into the lower cabniet where they normally put winter blankets. The winter blankets were all on the beds, since the frost of the season had crept into Miller County. She had blessed everything that Alexis had taken Ben--

It was like ice water. Alexis. Alexis had come home, untied Stiles and let him slaughter her own family. She was a stupid girl, and if she thought Stiles would leave her alive, then she was even dumber than Maria suspected. Because Stiles wasn't there.

All she could see was Stiles twisted smile, that... That was so cold, so ruthless she'd at first been excited by it only to be left with a ice creeping in her veins rather than heat and adernaline. It made the smile about to come on her face freeze in its beginning stage.

He'd quirked a brow at them, before licking his lips and using his hands with his words, like usual.

"What's wrong? Bad day at the office?" Stiles had asked, but there was no warmth to his tone. Nothing but his disdain and the sarcastic bite in his comments. The mockery he was making of her, insulting her, under her own roof.

Was this Void Stiles? The thought slammed into her and she'd smiled, finally weakly tugging it up the rest of the way, hands getting sweaty and cold as she scrunched them into her jeans.

"You said yes?" She managed, voice shaking a bit. If he said yes, half of this was already over and done with and the next part--

Stiles let out a bark of laughter that caused both her and Jax to flinch back. "Of fucking course not. No," Stiles waved a hand as if waving the idea away, "no, see you pushed me into this, you did. It's all me, and let me tell you, I think you'll find I'm just as good if not better than Void Stiles." His grin grew sharp, not with his teeth or anything, but with the presence of _it_. The presence of darkness.

Maria felt her self tremble once before standing firm. She was older, she was stronger, and wherever her pack was, well, they had her back.

"Oh? You-" she started.

"Did I look like I was done?" Stiles asked, though she was sure it was rhetorical as she watched him lean onto the entryway frame. "I wasn't." 

She swallowed, waving a clammy hand for him to continue while Jax's hand rubbed her back twice as a comfort. She had always been grateful her husband had been around, that he'd stuck with her all of these years.

"Do you know what Void is? I don't, not truly." Stiles lifted a brow, small smirk on his face as he watched Maria shiver again. "It's some deep dark part of me you want to control, or something, I got that. But I wanna know if you understand what you'd be making me do. If I had ever said yes." He raised his brows for her to answer but she found silence her best option. He'd never looked so intimadating and sure, she knew he was an Omega, a packless bitten wolf, but he was something else entirely as he stood before her.

"You'd be forcing me into the deep recesses of my brain while some implanted part of me ran around with my face. Void isn't something you control, Maria. It isn't about you anymore, once the Void is out. No, it's about chaos, and you know... I just feel so in touch with that part of me right now, especially after everything you've put me through." Stiles's smirk was gone. "They whispered it, whispered chaos in my ear."

She swallowed, throat tight, causing a dull ache for her to speak around. "Where's my Pack?" Maria whispered over Wreck it Ralph.

"The cool thing I learned in Beacon Hills is human member's dont have those ties in them, we aren't connected to them like we are each other. And even then, when you die, you still have the pack tie. Its still there, doesn't go anywhere. Not unless you end it, the pack tie. If you grab em all and rip them up, you get weaker, you don't feel as fast, and everyone can feel it, no matter where they are. Depending on how close you were, the pain is in varying degrees. If your clkse, I hear it's like losing a limb. But what was it for us again? A punch to the chest?" Stiles hummed, pushing off the doorway.

Maria shook her head. "Jenna is 13."

"Was." Stiless grin returned full force.

"What have you done?" She felt like the world had just fallen from under her and Jax was quick to grab her and keep her standing.

And then Stiles laughed. It was amused, maybe the first time in a long time there was real amusement in his laugh. And it was cold, and hard. It felt like being falling into a frozen river, like pins and needles flowed inside her veins instead of blood. Goosebumps raised on her arms as the thought. Felt like there was no real hope from getting out of this. 

There probably wasn't.

Jax pushed Maria behind him and she wanted to say it was stupid, because he was a human. They'd have better luck if she was in front. But she saw it for what it was. He was telling her to run. They still had Ben, they couldn't just- 

They couldn't just throw in a towel. Jax was going to fight and he was going to buy her time so she could fi-

She realized she was screaming after she became aware of the noise in the room. 

Stiles had moved too quickly. She hadn't had time to move Jax out of the way, to do anything other than stand there and scream, as her husband was getting ripped apart by this boy. This boy she'd given up so much for.

She turned and ran further into the house, trying to find a safe place as Stiles finished eith Jax.

 

Which lead to her being in the cabniets. She could hear his footsteps, and she tried to quiet her breathing as best she could when he seemed to get impossibly closer. He walked around, searching for her, and she stayed as quiet as possible, even just by holding her breath.

Her husband was dead. Her pack was dead. Stiles was showing her exactly what she had been asking for and now she realized that was a mistake. This whole thing. Rodrick had lied, had been misinformed about what Void meant, what Void could and would do. They should have checked more, looked deeper into it than the surface stuff they'd found to substantiate they're plot.

Maria put a hand over her mouth and nearly took it off in shock the moment it touched her. She hadn't realized she had blood on her. Now, though, it felt tacky and cold and she had to just stop thinking for a moment about that if she wanted to get out of this alive. Had to remain calm.

She waited, listening to him walk around, listening to him look for her. His footsteps faded, but she was sure he was still looking in other places. He wouldn't leave without killing her.

Some 10 minutes later, the front door clicked closed. She could hear it click. 

It was a trap was her first instinct. He wanted her to think he left so she would creep around thinking it was safe and he'd get her. So she waited.

The air got gross, and she felt hot and cramped, but she had to wait.

Had to. For Ben. As soon as the wait was over, she was out.

Which only made the next few seconds after the wait, the most panic she's felt probably in her life.

She tried to push the cabniet open gently only to find it wouldn't budge. So she pushed harder, all werewolf strength, but it still wouldn't move. She was locked in a cabniet.

Sweat was gathering on face as she started struggling in the stupid small space, panicked sobs leaving her until they grew to panicked screams.

How had she not noticed him moving things? How had she suddenly missed that she'd heard the click on the door, but she couldn't hear the movie anymore, or any other thing that had been turned on? 

He'd moved silently, but made his foot falls heavy when he wanted her to hear, she realized. 

It was getting really hot in the cabniet, dragging the back off her hand on her forehead just made her realize how much sweat she was covered in and no matter how hard she hit or screamed for help, it wasn't moving.

How was she to know on the opposite side was the day bed from the nursery, blocking the hall and her exit. Metal frames that were reinforced specifically for werewolves, they'd just had them custom made before Stiles showed up. In case he needed to be bound to the bed.

How was she to know the house was on fire as well, and he planned on roasting her alive? 

Simply put, she wasn't supposed to. She would die cramped in the cabniet.

* * *

Stiles whistled as he got in the car, swinging in three bags. He put the key in the igntion, revving the engine for enjoyment, moving the gear shift to Drive and gunning the gas. It felt nice to drive again, he hadn't done it in a long while. Especially away from this house, he was glad to take all his pain like that and let this motherfucker burn. 

Time to meet Alexis at the ice cream shop and get this shit show over with. He needed three more showers, Derek Hale, Scott McCall and an emissary. He wanted to be done with Miller County and close this chapter of his life already. 

He wanted to go home.


	23. Part 8

Stiles ditched the car a couple parking lots away. He rooted through the car, easily finding the wipes Maria kept in the console for when Ben got messy, and using it to wipe down the steering wheel, gear shift, seat belt and anything else his hand had touched.

He got out, cluthing a kid's Little Einstiens to his side and putting his own over his shoulders. The car door slammed closed and he wiped down the handle before walking towards the ice cream shop. 

Outside air burned sharply in his lungs for a minute, the cold of November a stark difference then the warm thermostat the house had. Had had.

Stiles rolled his eyes at himself, adjusting his hold on Ben's bag as it slid down a bit.

It cleared his mind to be in town for the first time in what felt like months. Faces he didn't know, soothing a part of him, but also raising the hairs on his arms. 

The sun was hanging low in the sky, causing the world to take on the orange and pink glow and all Stiles could think was he was glad he was able to see this. 

If he looked behind him, he knew he'd see the black smoke climbing towards the sky to clog the clouds. He'd see his old life burning. 

Purified through fire.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he saw Ben in the ice cream shop window.

The boy had both hands plastered stickly to the glass, making Stiles feel a little sorry for whoever had to clean it, and his mouth, blown wide, lips sealed as he pushed air to inflate his cheeks. He was obviously not being watched well. 

Ben grinned as he saw Stiles, ruining his puffed mouth and started slapping his hands to draw Stiles attention a muffled (well, it would have been if Stiles didn't have bionic hearing) "Untle Tiles!" Being yelled all too happily.

Stiles smiled back, feeling weak just knowing that it was almost over. 

And sure it felt like he was punched when he went in and Ben's eyes flashed red, but he knew that it wasn't a big deal. That all Ben had to do was give up the Alpha power and the McCall Pack would accept him with open arms as well. 

He sat heavily down next to the boy and shook his head down at the table. He felt empty. He felt calm.

He knew they had to get to Derek as soon as possible, but he... He couldn't seem to budge just then. He needed to hurry before he started to let everything set in. 

Alexis was currently talking to the person behind the counter with a smile that was so plastic Stiles felt sorry for the guy trying to hit on her.

He scooped Ben up, grabbing a napkin and his drink, which was a soda, but Stiles was going to over look that. He dabbed in an end and used the now wet napkin to wipe his face and hands as best he could. 

"Alexis!" He called, loud enough to be heard over the low thrum of conversation. 

She looked over and hastily said goodbye to the cashier, taking Ben's bag and throwing the trash away. 

She followed as he went out the door, ignoring Ben's flailing limbs as he babbled about how Alex took him for ice cream and blah blah blah, his voice turning to a stage whisper as he mumured about being able to see and hear better, and how strong he felt.

Stiles didn't much care to hear it as he waited for Alexis to unlock her car. 

They had to hurry. He had to hurry. He felt sick with panic, with a growing sense of time running out. He wanted to see the trashy motel he'd only seen week ago, again. 

* * *

He was knocking, civilly, but his hands shook. Stiles really wanted to break down the door, if Derek didn't open it in the next minute.

He'd bolted from Alex's car to this door and he had to wait for the person on the other side and it was killing him. He'd waited for so long it seemed like. Now that he could finally move around, and do things, he couldn't--

Stiles dropped his bag at Derek's feet when the older finally opened the door. He found himself lunging forward to hug him tightly and bury his face in Derek's neck with no real thought. 

Derek only seemed to take a second to catch up before he was hugging back so tightly it hurt. A good hurt. Made his bones ache, and the pieces he thought were going to fall apart, press together.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Derek whispered, chanting into Stiles hair, stubble scratching the youngers forehead. 

Tears welled up in Stiles eyes and he finally let all those emotions he pushed back, fall forward. Let them take over, like they had been deemanding since he'd seen Ben's eyes flash. Since he'd gotten that confirmation of Maria's death.

He felt empty. Those deaths were a hollow victory, they felt good when he was doing it, felt like redemption. It was all hollow now. He felt hollow inside, like the place where his heart was supposed to be, was empty. Or maybe it was just so full, that everything was consumed by it and he was lost in those waves. 

His father was dead and he'd killed those responsible, but the fact of the matter is... He survived and it felt like shit to know. He got out, he was the target, he was the one they wanted and he escaped. His dad was a bonus for them, a form of control over the whole county, his dad didn't make it. 

It wasn't fair. Their death didn't bring him back. Didn't make everything okay. Didn't restore balance. There was no justice. Nothing consoled him about piling bodies now. It was like he was losing even when he had already won. He got his dad killed and he was going to have to wake up every morning and realize that.

Tears were pouring out of his eyes and he was sobbing, huge body wracking sobs that had Derek gripping him so tightly, he was sure the other was trying to make sure he didn't fall apart on the doorstep. It just made him want to scream, made him want to fall apart. He let out howling sobs into Derek's shoulder, unable to stop himself from pressing closer.

Stiles fingers dug into Derek's shirt, fisting the material in the back, holding on just as tightly to Derek, to anchor himself.  He couldn't seem to stop shaking in Derek's arms, gasping for air only to start again with the sobs and there was no end to it. No way to shut it off. 

He couldn't stop, now that he'd started and he didn't want to ride it out, didn't want to let anyone think he was okay. He wasn't, he never would be. He was a bunch of broken pieces and he might not ever be fixed into what he originally was.

Stiles felt Derek's hand press into his back, rubbing circles before coming up and cradling the back of Stiles head.

Running blunt fingernails over his scalp and trying to relax him. Soothe the horrible, jagged sobs being ripped from the younger.

They stood there for a long time as Stiles just let out all his frustrations into Derek's arms, before he started to try and hold off the sounds. It seemed to only make them sound worse once they came out. Stilted, choking sounds, mixed with sharp gasps for air and shaking frame... He just wanted to stop crying so he could say he was fine. It had surely been more than ten minutes and he was trying everything to make himself stop.

None of it was working, but he wasn't giving up the fight. He wasn't weak, he wouldn't be a toy for his emotions, and he would calm down at some point. 

 _Not now_ , he realized, _I never got to mourn. I've lost everything and it won't be any time soon before I accept it._

The tears still weren't done as Alexis got there with Ben. She blinked at the two of them, before she bit her lip and worried at it. It felt like intruding, like this was a special moment. She'd waited by the car for twenty minutes, to give them this moment, but...

They looked like they'd done this before. Stiles' friend looked wrecked by the sound of his sobs, green eyes looking so wide and lost, and his expression was so crumpled. His knuckles were white with how hard he held Stiles.

"Untle Tiles is cryin, Alex," Ben stage whispered, still not realizing he was too loud to be actually whispering.

"Shh, even big boys cry." Alexis whispered lowly back, hand taking his and squeezing his little fist. Ben looked to her before looking to Stiles with worry. He squeezed Alex's finger as Stiles quieted from the loud, heart wrenching sobs he had been letting out.

Alex bit her lip and grimaced a smile to the young boy.

Stiles didn't stop sniffling, his sobs, which had started off as sounds of pure agony, regret and guilt that Derek could relate to, had turned to choked off ones, like he was trying to stop. Trying to put on a brave front. It hurt a little more knowing he was trying to bottle it. That he had to, until they got home. Until they were safe.

"It's all gonna be okay, I got you." Derek murmured. "We're gonna go home and we're going to talk about everything that went on, but for now we need to focus on high tailing it out of here." He let his hand rub small circles into Stiles back.

Stiles nodded into the joint of Derek's neck and shoulder, letting the older man guide him inside, pressed close to Derek as the he waited for Alexis and Ben to come in. Alex shuffled in awkwardly and pushed Stiles bag from the doorway as she passed the threshold. 

Ben had no qualms about running to where the TV was and planting himself there. It made Alex smile a bit, rushing over to his side to help him navigate with the remote.

Derek closed the door once the girl and kid had cleared the doorway and locked it. Stiles stuck like a sea urchin the entire time, even as Derek let one of his arms release Stiles. 

"I need to call Scott, and then we'll relax until he get's here." Derek murmured softly. "There's only one bed, but I could sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable." 

"Don't let me go." Stiles finally spoke, rasped more like. The first time since he had gotten to the motel. He'd cried himself ragged, his throat hurt and he couldn't stop shivering. Couldn't stop his erratic breathing.

"I won't," Derek murmured softly as he used one hand to take his phone from his pocket and unlock the screen to dial Scott.

Two rings. "Derek, whats wrong?" Scott asked

"I've got Stiles. Send Kira and Malia, we have to get out of here. You guys pack up, we gotta start heading home." Derek said.

"You think the Ramirez Pack is gonna jump on us that quick?" Scott whispered lowly. 

"I don't know, but we aren't chancing it. They could be-" Derek said, his face turned aeay from talking in Stiles ear.

"I killed them. All of them." Stiles managed into the fabric of Derek's shirt, where a big wet patch now sat.

Scott sucked in a breath, having heard the confession as well. "Then we really gotta hurry, before humans get us mixed up in local law enforcement. Allison!" And the line cut.

Stiles let Derek pull him towards the bed, let Derek lay down before falling on top of him and hiding his face, white hot salty tears trailing down his nose, his cheeks, falling from his lashes. His face was a ruddy red, but he just tried to breathe through the shakes, anchoring himself to Derek.

Cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Rodrick had startled at the news. The Stilinski boy had murdered the esteemed Ramirez Pack. 

But with all the tears, he was positive the boy had not used the Void to do it. He had been sane, had been thorough and had wiped out a pack of born wolves in one day. 

It made Rodrick want. Want the power, the mind, the ownership of Stiles Stilinski. 

But he was rooted to the spot in his motel room listening to the tears and knowing... Knowing no pack backed him up, while the sturdy McCall backed him. 

It was a battle he would lose, a war he just wouldn't be able to get enough people to back. And Rodrick hated losing. 

He would cut his losses, and escape with his life. That was a lot more than Maria--

His door busted open. Alpha McCall stood there, eyes glowing a fierce red and expression promising pain. Behind him, he could see Derek, and the boy wrapped in his arms.

"You're an emissary, correct?" Alpha McCall pressed. 

Rodrick nodded jerkily. He felt goose bumps rise on his arms and part of him wanted to pray to every God of Mercy. They were finishing wjat Stiles started.

"Well then, you know how this goes." Alpha McCall nodded, moving so Rodrick could see Derek and Stiles.

Derek pulled back, taking Stiles hands and holding them firmly, lacing their fingers. Rodrick could feel the energy being sealed between them. 

"Do you, Stiles Stilinski, accept the McCall Pack offer of becoming the mate of Derek Hale?" Derek asked, calm and slow so Stiles could process the words.

Stiles started to nod before clearing his throat. "I, Stiles Stilinski, hereby accept the McCall Pack offer of becoming the mate of Derek Hale." He managed, a smile coming to his face as he stared at his new family. 

Rodrick knew what he had to do, under oath. "The challenge for Mate is complete. I, Emissary Rodrick Creed, end the challenge and bond Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale for life." 

The words snapped the energy into place, causing both to swear at the sudden rush of connection. 

Rodrick watched in interest before taking this moment to slip from the room and out of the motel.

Stiles pulled in a harsh breath as air came rushing back to him. Whatever just happened felt like he got body checked and there was this buzzing in the back of his mind, pleasant and distracting and--

"You weren't joking, oh my God. I will literally now forever know when you need me." Stiles gaped, bewildered as his eyes snapped to Derek. 

Derek felt his face stretch into a smile and laughed, the innuendo coming back to him. He pressed his lips together for a moment, before pulling Stiles in to plant a kiss on Stiles slack surprised lips.

And, sure, there was some stubble scratching his chin and cheek, and sure Derek's grip on his hands was a little tight, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't perfect in that moment. Like two halves meeting and trying to become one whole. 

"Gross, can we go now?" Scott groaned as he wrinkled his nose at them. "We have a wedding in two days and thats the time of the drive home."

"Home?" Stiles whispered onto Derek's cheek as he drew back a centimeter or two. "I would love to go home."


	24. Part 9

Stiles had said goodbye to Alexis, exchanging emails, and promises to stay in touch, and so on. He'd watched her peel out of the motel parking lot like the devil wasn't far behind her without so much as a blink.

Honestly, he would be lying if he said watching her car disappear down the street didn't make some of the crushing pressure on his shoulders lift just a bit.

Maybe it was the guilt of what he'd just put her through, or maybe it was the resentment that she let this happen to begin with; maybe it was the regret that his revenge didn't fill the hole in his heart, or maybe it was the anger and frustration and unending sorrow that'd been smothering him since it finally sunk in. Or, of course, maybe it was all of it, and not seeing her shocked, paler than usual face made it a bit easier to breathe.

Ben had said goodbye to Alex as well, of course, but the boy had really been more interested in Scott's uneven jawline. He'd ran his hands over either side while looking very perplexed, and had quickly decided he loved Scott.

Least to say, his savior's departure was met with little to no tears. Not on their part at least.

Alexis had been looking for an escape since high school, and she fled like the best of them. Just like Stiles had. And despite all of her actions, and words, she had honestly wanted to wash her hands of this Pack, this town, this whole ordeal. 

She wanted Ben away from her, his eyes like Maria's, exactly now, with the red glow to boot. Alexis wasn't close to her old pack, hadn't been, and this whole shit storm had just reminded her why. Reminded her that her aunt only cared about power play, and that the rest of the pack was too willing to serve her needs.

Maybe the red of her cousin's eyes fueled her need to leave, maybe the fact that she helped was the real reason, it made her speed away just _that_ much faster. It would be a dark spot on her forever, something she would probably let haunt her for the next few years. Stiles had no doubt Alexis wouldn't be alright for awhile.

At any rate, the new alpha of the Ramirez pack had accepted her resignation. Which Stiles had asked Scott about, curious and concerned. 

And, of course, Scott had assured Stiles, at length at that, that they could take the Alpha power and status from Ben with no problem. Ben would fit in the McCall Pack, as if he'd been born into it. He would be watched closely as he grew, but McCall wasn't too worried about Ben being like his mom. Not when Ben was being a total cutie, babbling about how he was a big boy and could go potty by himself, in case "Stott" was wondering.

Scott was overjoyed to be having Ben in the pack, honestly. The older raved about how Malia and Kira were going to love having Ben grow up in the new McCall-Hale house. How he would be the start of his next generation, at their new home, and how spoiled the new addition would probably be.

When Stiles asked Derek about the new house, the other had turned a little red in the cheeks and on the top of his ears. Derek had bought the land his house used to be on, still was when he signed the papers for it. He'd happily demolished the old, burned house, though, with a crew. They'd cleared all of the remains of his past away for a better future. For a new home, new family, new memories.

A couple yards away was the McCall-Hale house. A better house, apperently, filled with more love and acceptance than ever before.

Derek went into great detail, stuttering to a stop only for a moment when he saw the way Stiles was looking at him, all amusement and surprise and a truly disgusting amount of tenderness. 

Hale continues to tell him about the greenhouse that was in construction. It was being built where the old Hale house once stood. A nursery for plants to grow, and for life to keep going on where others had ended. Rise through the ashes and such, in a poetic way. It also helped with alliances, as rare herbs were grown and used for trade and treaties.

Derek told him about most of the changes as he helped load all the bags into the back of the Versa.

The camaro sold for a pretty penny, and Derek had bought this little car not soon after. It was funny seeing big, muscley Derek driving a teenage girl's wet dream of a car. Like it wasn't totally a little bitch vehicle from its tiny, bitchy horn, to its little tiny rims.

All Derek was truly missing were three dogs and a Starbucks cup. The mental image alone had Stiles cackling.

Stilinski hadn't met Malia or Kira yet, though he'd heard a bit about them. They were helping Lydia and Isaac pack up, not only their stuff, but Allison's as well. Allison, future bride to be, had headed back early as soon as she heard Stiles was with them. She'd briefly simpered over the phone about seeing him soon before saying she had to go pack and leave and hanging up with a sweet I love you to Scott.

She had a wedding to get ready for, after all. One that would be taking place soon, as Stiles was their final piece before they could start in on preparations.

Scott, on the other hand, would be travelling with him and Derek. Malia and Kira would be in the car they came in, and Isaac and Lydia would be with them.

Shockingly enough, Stiles had found out from Scott that Lydia was two months into her pregnancy. Apperently she was getting sick quite often, so Stiles didn't envy Isaac's position as sorta boyfriend/father of the baby. 

Currently, Ben was strapped into the car, chattering away to Scott about "Untle Tiles" and how great he was. Scott was animated as well, telling the tyke about eight year old Stiles and Scott adventures. McCall had a good memory, Stiles noted, as he listened in with half a ear every now and then.

Stilinski put the last duffell into the trunk and closed it, before looking to see Derek watching him. Green eyes were glued to the lithe form of the other with awe and concern and that tenderness that made Stiles stomach turn on itself.

Stiles smiled at him, quirking a brow and leaning his lower back into the trunk of the car. Letting the fact that the other was in front of him at all wash over like a gentle wave. Thinking of how weird it was between them almost two weeks ago, at the diner.

Of familiar, but different banter. Of years missed and moments lossed. 

It was broken by Derek taking a few steps forward. 

"You want to drive first?" Derek smiled, teasing and honest as he leaned forward into Stiles space. He braced his palms on either side of the boy, locking him between strong looking arms.

"And be seen driving this? No, thank you, it is all yours. Warning, I will be picking the music, though." Stiles turned his face away, snorting and smiling while dunking his head so he wouldn't have to look into Derek's bright hazel eyes. His stomach did those weird kick flips when he did, and it made him forget how to form words.

Not to mention the underlying guilt that thrummed lowly in the pit of his stomach. The glacier pace of heartbreak moving through him. That he let this happen to himself, that he let his dad die, that... the feelings reered up anytime something good happened. Anytime he looked too long at Derek or Scott or, really, anyone in the McCall pack. 

Derek hummed, considering Stiles with kind eyes and a playfully pressed together lips trying not to twitch into a smile. Pulling the younger from his spiral of self hate to pay attention to the elder. "Okay, but it's gonna cost you." 

Stiles whipped his head up to glare at Derek, eyes narrowed. "Cost what?" 

But he could already feel the answer through the mate bond.

It sang with it, with those tingling emotions that were so... so Derek and had Stiles fighting a smile and the not-good roll of his stomach.

Stiles blamed the mate bond for their sappy tender eyes with a passion. It wasn't at all because Stiles was actually tender towards Derek.

Nope.

(Even if he totally was.)

He wondered if Derek felt his underlying emotions through their bond, if he was picking them out to stay alert to Stiles mood. Was probably trying to distract him from his own mind, if Stiles was honest. Maybe that contributed to the goo goo eyes. Stiles wasn't a doctor, though, so he couldn't be sure.

"Such a sap," Stiles finally grumbled, feeling his cheeks flame as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth. He fought not to smile against Derek's lips. "Who knew?"

Derek grinned, making something in Stiles stomach ease up. He wrapped an arm around Stiles waist, the other one shifting ti brace more of his weight as he pulled Stilinski closer.

Derek's stubble rasped across Stiles cheek for a moment, and caused Stiles to smother a laugh, even as a smile stretched across his face.

"Cora, Scott, Isaac, and Kira. Though, Isaac didn't figure it out until recently." The words were whispered into Stiles hair as Derek nuzzled Stiles face, lips dragging on Stiles cheek for a second.

Stiles let out a snort of a laugh, arms coming up to wrap around broad shoulders, letting Derek press his lips to Stiles own after a second of searching. Not demanding, not "burning with passion", not pushing, but there. There and patient and understanding and so, so tender. 

Stiles hands bunched in Derek's shirt fabric, brimming up with so many emotions, they shook a bit.

Guiding, soft, slow. He was letting Stiles pull away if he wanted. The soothing back and forth motion of Derek's thumb dragging on an exposed strip of skin, where Stiles shirt rucked up a bit helped keep Stiles anchored. 

It may not have been anything like their first kiss, or the second or third, but it was just as meaningful, just as driven and... and Stiles wasn't okay. He probably wouldn't be for a long time.

But he had support, and all the time he needed. He wasn't okay, but he would be. He knew Derel and the pack would help him forgive himself for the years wasted. For his fathers death, and his hollow victories and everything else that was wrong.

Stiles could get used to this feeling, this care. He was sure of it as he melted into Derek's embrace.

And, sure, his smile almost ruined it, but Derek just seemed to rumble with laughter and hold him even tighter. Hold all of his pieces together, and it wouldn't just be these arms doing so, but Scott's, and Lydia's and all those he'd left at home.

New one's and old one's and each would be putting a piece back in its place until Stiles was whole again. It was something to look forward to.

Derek let him go and Stiles rolled his eyes, lightly pushing Derek away even as his cheeks burned. He got in the passenger seat and buckled up as Derek sat in the drivers seat and started the engine.

"Where we going?" Ben asked, confused amd looking to Stiles.

"Beacon Hills, for a fresh start," Stiles smiled back at him. The boy had a big football helmet in his lap.

"Did mama say was otay?" Ben pressed.

"She did." Stiles heart didn't miss a beat, not that Ben would have known either way. 

Ben happily accepted it and started to ask Scott about the place.

Stiles looked to the man beside him, heart hammering a bit as he watched him shift gears. With no further prompting, Derek gently pulled out of his parking space and started the long trek back to Beacon Hills. 

Stiles fisted hands relaxed with every mile they put behind them.

He looked to Derek once more as they passed out of town, and swallowed hard. His throat felt tight and his shoulders shook, but, for the first time in years, he was ready for what was to come. 

Derek taking one nervous hand in his own steady grip only made Stiles feel stronger. Settled something beneathe his skin as he watched their fingers lace, as he felt his hand being held just as tightly as he was holding Derek's.

He wasn't alone, he was going home, and he would be okay, eventually. That's all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of ending this in a car wreck btw , but i promised you guys a happy ending and whats happier than someone finding their place in the world with people they love while healing and bettering themselves and coming to terms with self acceptance ??
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> there is nothing more beautiful than conquering your demons and learning to love and accept yourself and others


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